


The Other Promise

by kuresoto



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asphyxiation, Domestic Violence, Dreaming about wanting to fuck the personification of Death is completely Valid, Dreams, Dubious Consent, F/M, Glove Kink, Grim Reapers, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Rey conquers Kylo's big dick, Suicide, Supernatural Elements, Surprisingly fluffy considering the tags, Violence, very minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-09-25 09:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20374255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuresoto/pseuds/kuresoto
Summary: Rey knows she's not normal. Why else would she be subjected tofourfoster families before she aged out of the system and took life into her own hands? It could have (definitely does) something to do with the fact that she can see how long people have to live.It doesn't bother her (much) anymore, and with her being--well,her--she's resigned herself to working in a morgue for the rest of her life where the only people who keep her company besides her boss, are the dead. No friends, no family. No one.But everything starts to unravel when a new neighbor moves in next door. The walls she's built come crumbling down for the uniquely handsome man who always wears a three-piece suit, complete with a pair of leather gloves, regardless of how hot it is.The chance encounter turns into frequent run-ins, with the single most important factor that had ruined any relationship she ever tried having in the past being absent.He has no life timer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much to flypaper_brain for being my beta and cheerleader, and to Alexandra/politicalmamaduck and Celia/crossingwinter for being my mod betas <3
> 
> I got this idea from a random K-Drama clip I saw on Facebook and the idea stuck with me through the months until RFFA 2019 got announced! And for anyone who knows me, _of course_ the title is from Kingdom Hearts and it reflects my fic nicely because of...well...you'll have to wait and see! ;)

It’s late at night. It’s quiet in the laundry room save for the sounds of fabric folding and Rey’s soft breathing, so she almost jumps out of her skin when she hears a cough at the doorway.

There’s a very tall man with dark, curly hair that brushes the top of his shoulders, standing with his arms crossed across his wide chest. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit, which isn’t out of the ordinary considering her inner city location, but she wasn’t expecting to see anyone this late at night. 

“That’s mine,” the strange man says, voice thick like honey and deep like the hole she feels like her stomach had just dropped down into upon hearing it. 

Rey tries not to look affronted and fixes a smile on her face, though her eyes narrow at his accusation. Who the hell is this guy? “Excuse me?”

“That,” he says, “is mine.” He pauses before continuing sardonically. “Sorry, but I don’t think it’ll fit you.”

An embarrassingly long beat passes before Rey finally looks down at her hands. Her mind was on autopilot and she hadn’t noticed a large pair of men’s underwear mixed up with her own. The black briefs are already half folded.

“Oh, shit.” Numerous thoughts run through her head as she stares at the offending piece of clothing. Should she finish folding it? Or scrunch it in a ball and just throw it at him? Even that second thought makes her grimace as she subtly fingers the soft fabric; it’s softer than any of her cheap bulk bought underwear. She fumbles with it for a bit before extending the briefs out to him.

The man unfolds his arms and accepts his folded underwear with a tight smile. “Thanks.” The dark underwear matches the black leather gloves encasing his hands. 

It’s not until she hears his door closing down the hallway that her nonchalant smile slides off her face, a panicked one replacing it. “Oh god,” she says repeatedly, head in her hands. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing to regain her composure. _There’s no way I’m gonna see him again_, she tells herself, forcing the incident from her mind. 

* * *

With the laundry incident barely a speck in her memory, Rey is justifiably confused when a letter addressed to _Kylo Ren_ ends up in her pile a week later. The unit number on the envelope is the one next door and Rey starts to return it to the mail station downstairs before having second thoughts about the trip she’s about to make. 

The mail boxes are on the ground floor, just next to the double glass entrance doors, and her apartment is on the fourth floor. There’s no way she’s going back down there just to return a letter. Her complex doesn’t have an elevator and normally she wouldn’t care about the extra physical activity, but she’s just not feeling it right now. 

So she decides to slip it under the door. Not knock and personally give it back. Oh no, definitely not. No one actually gets to know their neighbors in buildings like hers. Only couples with three perfect kids living in a cul-de-sac in the middle of suburbia did that. 

She flicks the envelope with her finger and watches it disappear under her neighbors door. It’s obvious he isn’t home, assuming ‘Kylo Ren’ is a he. 

Suddenly, an absurd thought strikes her.

_What if they doesn’t notice the letter when he comes home and _slips_ on it? And hits their head? What if _I’m _the reason for their death?_

It’s ridiculous, but once the thought is stuck in her head, she knows she won’t stop worrying until she gets on her hands and knees to see how far she’s flicked the letter. 

And that’s how her neighbor finds her, staring at Rey trying to peep under his door as he stands at the top of the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

The voice startles her.

She knows this voice. Dread drips down her spine as she turns to face the stairwell, still on her hands and knees with her cheek pressed against the floor. The man from the laundry is staring at her incredulously and getting closer. She can feel his footsteps, which does nothing for the panicked thoughts racing through her mind. 

She scrambles to her feet and straightens her clothes, dusting the balls of loose carpet from herself. 

“It’s not what it looks like.”

He raises a brow, the distance between them only a few meters now. 

“I’m not some weird pervert,” Rey tries again.

“So you’re just an ordinary pervert?”

“Wha—no, that’s not what I mean!” It takes a lot of restraint not to stomp her foot like a child. “I’m just returning a letter that got mixed up with mine.” The man’s blank look makes her huff with frustration. “Never mind. I just wanted to return a letter, that’s it. Nothing nefarious.”

“Well in that case, thank you.” He sounds sincere.

“Huh?”

The man manoeuvres around her and the telltale sound of keys being fished out from his pocket makes Rey freeze. He unlocks his door and bends to pick up the letter on the floor. “Thank you,” he repeats with a smile in his voice before closing the door, leaving Rey standing in the hallway with her mouth ajar. 

Antisocial doesn’t come close to describing Rey’s social life, so she tries not to think too much about the fact that she’s had two very personal encounters with her new neighbor when he’s only just moved in. 

* * *

Being an orphan and bouncing between foster homes, Rey had accepted she was alone in the world. With no friends or family, it was easy to be unbothered by her isolated lifestyle, but only for so long. Twenty-five years is a long time to be alone, so the next day when she sees her neighbor’s familiar back a few paces in front with the same grocery bags she has in her hands, she jogs to catch up with him. 

They live in Coruscant, a city on the east coast of the New Republic, with fairly stable weather. Summers are relatively humid, but only enough to enjoy a lemonade without becoming sticky with sweat, unlike Rey’s hometown of Jakku, where the humidity is thick and stifling. Their winters are fairly benign as well, unlike the northern cities such as Hoth. There’s no snow, so Rey can’t really complain.

It’s currently the middle of spring and the sun is out. It’s still early enough in the evening that a jacket isn’t needed, yet Kylo is sporting his usual attire—a three-piece suit with a set of leather gloves. To be fair, Rey can still count how many times she’s seen him on one hand so it’s a bit premature to know what his ‘usual’ attire is. 

But it’s warm. 

“Hey!” 

Her shout causes Kylo’s shoulders to tense, but they relax when he sees who it is. “Oh, it’s you.” 

She can’t blame him for responding that way. She’d be wary too if her new neighbor kept appearing with the habit of mistakenly taking her shit. Hell, she’s handled his undies before she’s even introduced herself.

“Sorry, by the way. About the—you know, mail and stuff.” She feels a heat creep up her neck and blames the short jog she did to catch up to him.

“It’s fine. It was an honest mistake, unless you’ve come to tell me otherwise.” 

“Oh, god, no. I’m not.” Rey takes a deep breath and reminds herself of her New Year's resolution to stop being such a hermit. “I’m Rey Niima, by the way. Your new, _not _creepy_, _neighbor,” she says with an unsure grin. 

It feels like an eternity before he responds with an amused voice. “I’m Kylo Ren, but you already know that.”

Rey groans. His cocky attitude almost makes her regret striking up a conversation, but she pushes on. “I feel like you’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Well, it’s not everyday I become acquainted with my new neighbor the way we did. No offence, but I didn’t think talking to neighbors was still a thing.”

“Oh god, it isn’t. Believe me, you’re an exception and it’s only because I’m already in too deep. I’ve already seen your underwear—what kind of person would I be if I didn’t see this through?” Rey says in one breath, firmly ignoring how flirtatious she sounds. 

Thankfully, Kylo humours her with a laugh. “I suppose that means you owe me a glimpse of yours then.”

Before Rey can even ruminate on _what the actual fuck was happening_ or if this flirting had become a two way street, Kylo’s cool demeanour breaks, his hand coming to cover his face. “That was terrible. Oh god, that was really creepy and bad and—” He trails off, muttering to himself while trying to put some distance between them.

Rey catches bits of “I’m sorry” mixed with “What the fuck is wrong with me?” and cracks a smile. In fact, her nervousness is now gone, replaced with a sense of elation that Kylo seems to be just as awkward as she is.

Except that she hasn’t made a pass that gave off strong sexual harrassment vibes, but she’s willing to overlook that. If a friendship of sorts comes from this, and Rey is hopeful for that outcome, she’ll take every opportunity to remind him of this moment.

Laughter bubbles from within when Kylo stares ahead with a faraway look. “It’s fine. Oh my god, your face,” Rey says. Kylo looks like he’s aged ten years since starting this conversation. “Don’t worry, this is the most refreshing conversation I’ve had in a long time. I process dead bodies at the morgue for a living.”

That seems to break his trance. “I didn’t realise I was in the presence of a full-fledged doctor.”

Rey snorts. “Nope, sorry to disappoint. That would be my boss. No, I just do the technical stuff, like weighing the organs, stitching them back together for the funeral, you know, stuff like that.”

“Oh, that’s still pretty cool.”

Rey stops on the sidewalk. “You think so?” Not that she’s tried, but she didn’t think anyone would be interested in her line of work. If anything, she had expected Kylo to be weirded out by how unaffected she was around dead bodies.

Looking back with a shrug, Kylo’s brows furrow in question. “Sure, why not? It certainly keeps you on your toes and it’s not like it’ll be boring. And you didn’t need to go to medical school to be qualified, right?”

Rey’s stomach does a small somersault at his words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she says before resuming their journey back to their apartment. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Me? I’m a security contractor.”

Rey’s mouth drops. “Oh my god, have I processed your bodies?”

“What?” he asks incredulously, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hey, I know what security contractor is code for. I’ve seen that Holoflix series. You know, what’s it called?” Rey clicks her fingers repeatedly, mentally searching for the name. “_The Executor_! That’s it! That guy was a ‘security contractor’ and was basically a hitman.”

“One, no, I’m not a hitman, and two, even if I was, as if I would ever admit that. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Rey stares at him for a beat before she lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh my god, that’s so cheesy,” she manages between gasps.

“You’re the one who thinks I’m a hitman!” Kylo sputters. He presses his lips together, and Rey briefly wonders if she’s gone too far; she doesn’t know him and her social skills aren’t the greatest. Maybe she’s misread their relationship, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes that she hopes she isn’t imagining. 

She knows Kylo isn’t an assassin of any sort but he certainly dresses the part if she actually believed they dressed like smart businessmen. 

Rey feels a thin sheen of sweat coating her brow, the two grocery bags in each hand doing nothing to help. Kylo has the same amount of bags and he’s covered head to toe in what Rey can only imagine to be heavy and stifling fabric, but he seems totally unbothered by the heat. If anything, he’s still fretting over Rey being convinced that he’s an assassin.

It’s refreshing.

This whole encounter is exhilarating.

Against her better judgement, Rey focuses on the space above Kylo’s face. One, two, three and—

“Is something on my face?” Kylo asks when Rey stops with her mouth ajar. He grows concerned when she doesn’t answer immediately, stopping to lower one of his bags and shake her gently with one of his gloved hands. 

Her eyes dart to where they’re connected. Her heart is beating so fast she feels like she might pass out at any moment. Blood is screaming in her ears and she can barely hear what Kylo is trying to say to her. 

She blinks again and again, still looking at his gloved hand around her bicep. It’s real. He’s real.

She lifts her head one more time and sees him looking down at her, eyes wide with concern and a hint of panic. 

No one has looked at her like that in years.

Her last foster family worried about her from time to time but not like this.

This feels genuine.

There’s a connection, Rey can feel it.

She doesn’t want to romanticise something that could be nothing but… 

“It’s nothing. I just remembered some work I forgot to submit to my boss. I gotta send it off first thing when I get home,” Rey lies with a weak smile. If Kylo sees through her fib, he doesn’t say anything. He only shoots her another questioning look before nodding and continuing on their way.

The rest of their walk back to their building is a haze to her. She can scarcely remember what they chatted about.

There’s only one thing on her mind when they reach their doors and say their goodbyes.

“See you around, Mr. Assassin,” Rey says cheekily, earning a tired sigh from Kylo before he shuts his door.

Inside her own apartment, Rey looks at the wall that separates them and whispers, “Who are you, Kylo Ren, and why can’t I see your timer?”

* * *

A few days later, Rey is emotionally and mentally exhausted. Rey hadn’t anticipated that her journey home from work would be so emotionally taxing. She should be used to it by now, but evidently not. 

There was an accident involving a bus and two cars and the paramedics were already at the scene. She’s a mortuary technician, so death is not new to her, but standing between her and the subway home were a bunch of onlookers, all scrambling over one another to get a glimpse of the horrific scene. With a sigh, she started to push her way through the crowd. She didn’t hesitate to use her bag and elbows, especially if it meant she’d get home faster. 

Someone shoved back at her and normally, she wouldn’t care, but something—whether it was the accident, the red and blue siren lights, the sheer amount of people, or maybe the pure exhaustion from her ten hour shift—threw her off. She looked at the offender and for a split second, she faltered. 

It happened in a blink of an eye, but it was enough.

The man looked at her with an annoyed grimace, but that’s not what had her attention. The obscure veil fell and the once hidden numbers stared down at her. Ticking away with a noise only she can hear is a small digital timer that floated above his head. 

_Tick._

_Tock._

It’s...insufferable.

Any appetite for the greasy Chinese takeaway she had planned to get on the way home was long gone.

Muttering a hasty apology, Rey dashed through the remaining crowd, eyes firmly trained on the path in front of her so she didn’t accidentally see anyone else’s life timer. Her day was rapidly turning into a shitfest and that was the last thing she needed.

It’s not until she clambers into her apartment and has her back against her locked front door that she closes her eyes and breathes deeply. She stays like that for a long time, trying to steady herself. The ticking noise begins to fade into the distance as she slowly calms down. Her apartment is quiet, apart from an actual clock ticking away on the wall, reading ten past eight; but it’s a different sound than the one that plagues her. The life timers she’s had the misfortune of seeing and hearing rattle inside her head, each second bouncing around her skull. 

She’s been able to see life timers for as long as she can remember; even her earliest memory as a child had timers above everyone’s head. She didn’t know what they were for the longest time. It wasn’t until...

Rey shakes her head and lightly slaps her cheeks with one last exhale. Her stomach is starting to complain, which is understandable since her last and only meal was almost eight hours ago and comprised an overpriced sandwich from the cafe. 

After casting off her shoes and fumbling in her kitchen for something easy, she settles on her balcony with a plastic container of steaming hot mac and cheese and is about to take her first bite when she hears a _click_ and _snap_ to her right. It’s Kylo, sitting on his own balcony with a book in one hand and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. 

Keeping to herself, Rey finishes her meal in a few bites and relaxes back in her chair, taking her time and enjoying the chilled cider she has with her. 

She’s not sure if he even notices she’s there, but they sit in comfortable silence with nothing but the sound of his exhales, and ice clinking against her glass. 

She steals a few glances at him. She can’t help but feel giddy with excitement, despite the fact that they aren’t interacting at all. Her heart races and a smile is threatening to break from the corner of her lips. 

There are a number of reasons that could explain why she’s like this.

For one thing, he’s uniquely handsome; tall enough to tower over her, with a long face with full lips and a head of thick dark hair; and an attractive air of mystery about him. Despite keeping to himself and being a man of few words, his face is extremely emotive. It was impossible for Rey to tear her eyes from his face during their few encounters, constantly being drawn to how his eyes would widen slightly, or dart around when she spoke, following her every move. 

It doesn’t help that all he seems to own are suits and formal wear. Even from their first embarrassing meeting, he was always in a suit; most likely coming home from work. He looks good in a suit. Good is actually an understatement—he looks incredibly handsome and a heavy heat always twists at her groin whenever his image swims to the forefront of her mind.

She’s never seen him without gloves either and wonders what his hands look like, what they must feel like. It’s a weird thing to notice and fixate on, but it’s a nice distraction from seeing how long everyone has to live. A man of his height and build, they must be big. He hides his hands in his pockets a lot—she only got a good look at them yesterday—but Rey guesses they could easily encompass her entire face. 

She hasn’t stopped thinking about him since their encounter yesterday, desperately recalling their chance meetings. She’s slightly obsessed with him. She knows this. She’s accepted this.

She never thought herself to be one of those girls who were attracted to men in suits. In fact, she never really put a lot of thought into what ‘her type’ was. It’s not like she had a lot to choose from, because the single most important factor that had ruined any relationship she ever tried having is absent from Kylo.

He has no life timer. 

Physical attraction aside, _he has no life timer_. 

She’s repeated the phrase in her mind multiple times within the last twenty-four hours. She barely slept a wink last night, thinking about her puzzling neighbor who looks and appears as normal as a human can be. She wants to know more about him; she needs to. 

Her whole life, all the way back to childhood, has been bleak. Being able to see how long people have to live is a curse. She never got close to anyone or had any friends because of it, but now? She’s starved for emotional connections that won’t blow up in her face.

The life she’s seen so many people get to have didn’t seem like such a faraway dream anymore. 

She still doesn’t know much about him, but that doesn’t matter.

His timer-less existence alone has already lifted her spirits today, despite Rey’s face heating up whenever she remembers their first meeting.

She had never known her neighbors and didn’t even notice her old one had moved out until Kylo showed up in the doorway of their shared laundry. 

Rey is by no means normal. She may be the last person on this planet to be considered so, but she thinks her neighbor might just be even stranger than herself. 

* * *

Kylo stubs his cigarette and quietly closes his book before slipping back inside. He doesn’t need to be out there for long, just long enough to remind Rey of his existence. 

She had tried to ignore him, but he saw the small glances she snuck as she sipped her drink. Good, his presence alone distracts her. 

Now that she’s starting to fixate on him, he can begin the next phase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Executor' is this AU's version of 'The Punisher' ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg thank you guys! The reception I've gotten for my fic so far has me over the moon! Thank you so much for reading! I only hope you'll continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds <3
> 
> I plan to update every Saturday and Tuesday/Wednesday :)

Darkness.

There’s darkness all around, yet Rey can see the thick fog that surrounds her just fine. She takes a step, the airy mist moving between her legs like water. The path before her illuminates, and gets brighter with every step she takes, so she sets out in a random direction and wonders what she will find. 

There’s nothing but silence to keep her company. Finally, spending hours on end in a room with dead bodies is working in her favour. The deafening silence would drive ‘normal’ people mad. 

It seems like time is irrelevant here. It feels like hours have passed since she found herself in the unfamiliar dimension, but there’s no way to check. At least her feet aren’t tired. _Thank god for small blessings_, she thinks to herself. 

Suddenly, she stops. It’s not silent anymore.

It’s faint, but she hears it.

A cry, a baby’s cry. Or is it a young child’s?

There’s a child somewhere, whimpering and sniffling, trying their best to keep quiet. They’re doing an excellent job since it takes Rey a few moments to pinpoint the direction it’s coming from. 

Closer and closer, the child’s sounds grow louder until—

Out of nowhere, a box appears at her feet. Inside, there is a small girl, no more than five; she is curled into a tight ball and trying her best to hold in her hiccups. 

“Hi there,” Rey says gently, but the girl doesn’t look up. She keeps her head buried against her knees, brown hair falling over and obscuring her face.

When the sniffles start to subside, Rey leans down to try talking to her again, but a sharp chill runs down her spine. She instinctively looks to her left and sees a cloaked figure with mist pouring out from under their robes. 

She should be afraid, but she’s not. 

As if possessed, Rey starts walking toward the unknown figure, the child now all but forgotten. The closer she gets, the clearer its appearance becomes. The figure is holding a scythe in their hand. Rey can barely make out the blade against the darkness, but it’s there; gleaming at certain angles from an unknown light source. The skeletal hand that holds the scythe is clean, and Rey can’t help but admire the bone structure. There’s no decomposing flesh hanging off the bones and it appears to be in perfect condition; there is a weightedness to its form that Rey can’t help but appreciate. How typical of her to analyse the monster before her instead of being afraid of it.

Still holding onto the scythe, Death—_this being must be Death_, Rey thinks—lifts their other hand. Each finger curls in until a single digit remains: the index finger, pointing accusingly at her. 

Fear belatedly enters her mind now, its powerful, foreboding presence freezing her on the spot. Suddenly, she wants to run or scream or cry; she must do something, anything_, _but her body won’t move. Her mind races as Death continues to approach, their skeltal finger still aimed in her direction. Her arms dangle helplessly at her sides, loose and weightless and beyond her control. 

She can feel a coldness seeping into her bones and a bitter taste now coats her mouth. Death is so close now.

Rey takes a deep breath, squeezes her eyes shut and winces, bracing for whatever is to come next. But nothing happens. Eventually, she cracks her eye open, just enough to get a hint of what is happening.

Death is gone. 

She releases her breath and relaxes, spinning around only to see the being gliding towards the girl in the box.

But the box has disappeared, leaving the girl exposed and curled into a ball with a spotlight over her. Whether she knows Death is coming or not, the girl keeps her head down and continues to whimper.

_Knock, knock._

Rey lunges towards the girl, arm outstretched and intent on grabbing ahold of Death. She hasn’t put any thought into what she would do if she manages to somehow yank Death away, but she doesn’t care.

“Don’t,” Rey gasps, falling through the air towards Death and the girl. “She’s just a child. Don’t, please.”

She drops to the ground with a thud, and her fingers skirt against Death’s robes. Death snaps around with a flourish, and the scythe is nowhere to be found. Rey looks up directly into the black abyss that shrouds Death’s face. Black is black, but this feels different. 

_Knock, knock, knock._

Something is happening...something is changing... and she feels some part of her fall into the void that stares back until a hand comes into view.

No longer skeletal, Death’s hand is completely whole, the flesh of it now filling a black glove. Fingers splayed, their palm crowds Rey’s sight so she can only see through the web of their fingers. Her eyes desperately dart around until she sees the girl out of the corner of her eye, still curled in a ball on the ground. 

This could be the end for Rey, but at least the girl is safe. At least…

_Knock, knock, knock._

Suddenly, all sound disappears. No cries, no whimpers, not even her own breaths can fill the void. An echoing voice enters her mind and her brain feels like it might explode.

_“I’ll come back for you. I promise."_

* * *

Rey bolts up in bed with a gasp, her arms flying around and hands slapping her bedsheets, looking for something to steady herself. She grabs for her pillow and almost knocks something off of her nightstand in the process. 

She falls back in the bed after she’s calmed down a bit, but her heart is still racing and her mind keeps replaying her dream.

She doesn’t normally have dreams, especially not when she’s just napping, so having one this vivid and waking so suddenly shakes her more than it should. She rolls over onto her front and is about to let her eyes shut again when a noise startles her.

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK._

Rey’s her head swivelling in the direction of her door. The insistent knocking does nothing for her racing heart, the noise forcing her mind back into her nightmare. The knocking. Was there knocking in her dream? It was probably—no, it’s definitely whoever is trying to break down her door; their thumps are so intense that the sound must’ve bled into her dream. The last thing she wants to do is answer, but it doesn’t sound like they’re going to stop any time soon. 

Still disoriented, Rey makes her way over to the door and cracks it open the front. She barely gets a glimpse of who’s there before they push through the doorway and run past her, muttering a string of words that Rey can’t really comprehend in the moment because she’s just realized who her intruder is.

The last thing Rey expected to see this afternoon is her neighbor, clad in nothing but a thin shirt and a pair of shorts that rise dangerously high up his thighs, striding across her small apartment in a few steps. She doesn’t have time to even appreciate Kylo’s muscular legs, or the fact that he’s not in a suit for once, because he’s sliding open her balcony door and swinging his legs over the already high railing and—

“Kylo, what the fuck?!” Rey screeches, flying across the room to him in a panic. She flings herself at him and loops her arms around his midsection with her face pressed into his shirt, and is genuinely surprised at how firm his body is. It doesn’t help her focus when she realises that her fingers are barely touching, even though she’s got both arms wrapped around him as tight as she can manage. Before she starts getting lost in thoughts about how the fuck he has been hiding this under all his suits, she catches herself and shouts, “Kylo, whatever it is, suicide isn’t the answer.”

“Suici—what, no! I need to get home and into some proper clothes! I got locked out and it’s really fucking cold outside and normally I wouldn’t be so insistent, but I don’t want people to see me like this. It won’t take long, I swear. I just need to borrow your balcony and I’ll be out of your hair in no time. If you let me go, I can just—urgh!” Even with Rey holding him down, Kylo tries to drape himself and bridge the gap between the two balconies. 

“Have you lost your mind? Just get a locksmith like a normal person!” She can feel every one of his muscles rippling and contracting against her body and it only makes Rey tighten her hold. 

Kylo is still struggling to get a hold of his balcony. “Yeah, but I don’t have my phone on me.”

Finally, Rey somehow claws her way up his body and grabs a fistful of his hair. Kylo cries out when his head gets yanked back and they fall back onto the floor of her balcony. Rey takes a second to revel in the sensation of being pressed so closely against him.

“Stop being a dumbass and use my phone,” Rey says, exasperated. As much as she wants to savor this moment, she forces herself to roll off of his body and glares at him until he eventually bows his head in defeat. 

After leading Kylo back inside and handing him her phone, Rey busies herself with putting on some coffee and pops a couple of slices of bread into the toaster while Kylo calls the locksmith. He raises a brow when she sides the plate of toast towards him after he’s hung up. 

“What?” Rey asks defensively. “You got something against toast?”

“No,” he says as he slowly takes a bite. Rey has never seen someone look so tormented from having some carbs.

“Is it because it’s white bread?”

“No. There’s nothing wrong.”

“It feels like you’ve been chewing the same bite for an eternity.”

As Kylo holds his hands up in defence, he rubs his fingers together, causing crumbs to fall everywhere. “It’s not my place to say.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Rey asks with narrow eyes. There’s something in his voice, a sort of judgment that causes Rey to second guess her attraction to him. She tries to tell herself to calm down, that she needs to be nice to him if she wants to get to know him better, but when he takes another bite and scrunches his face, Rey all but slams her hands on the table and rips the bread from his mouth. “No bread for you.” Seriously, she has never seen someone so bothered by toast.

“Sorry, it’s just that—” Kylo looks unsure, as though trying to decide if he should continue, but catches Rey gripping her butter knife menacingly. “All I’ve seen you eat is junk. All you buy are ready made meals.” 

_What the fuck? Who the hell is he to judge how she eats?_ Rey bristles at his words, readying herself to snap at him, but Kylo quickly jumps back in to save himself.

“What I mean to suggest is that I can help you cook, or offer some small suggestions to improve the quality of your meals if you’re too tired to properly cook after work.”

“Aren’t you being a bit presumptuous? You literally charged into my apartment and tried to jump off my balcony, and now you’re lecturing me on how I should live my life?” 

Kylo takes a step back and wipes his hands against his shorts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that. You’re literally the only person I’ve seen in this building and I don’t know, I’m not usually one to talk to my neighbors but I thought we could be, I don’t know….” He trails off with a meek shrug. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll wait outside for my locksmith.”

He’s only gone a few steps when Rey grabs the back of his shirt. She doesn’t pull on it and he stops walking. They’re standing there, neither of them moving. “Sorry, I’m not used to this. I usually keep to myself so this...this is new,” Rey says with a weary laugh. “I don’t really get why you’d wanna be friends with me after all this.”

Kylo stares at her for a full minute, which makes Rey squirm under his unbreaking gaze. “I suck at interacting with people and it looks like you’re in the same boat. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with you?”

Rey can’t even be offended. Not when it’s true. “This is the weirdest way to meet someone.”

“It suits us then,” Kylo says with a twitch of a smile. “Anyways, the locksmith said they’ll be here in an hour or so. I can wait outside if you want.”

“Well, considering you were about to jump balconies to get back inside because you were cold, I don’t see that happening. Come on, we can watch something on TV while you finish your shit coffee.”

“I didn’t say anything about the coffee.”

“But I can almost hear you gagging on it.” Rey climbs over the back of the couch and flicks through the channels. Kylo joins her soon after, crossing his legs to nurse the cup of coffee that Rey is certain he won’t finish. She tries to concentrate on picking a channel but that smooth upper thigh skin is exposed and focusing on the TV is near impossible, so she throws him a fleece blanket she has lying nearby. 

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” she says, keeping her face glued to the TV.

He hums and shifts under the covers. He keeps one leg bent while the other dangles off the couch like normal. Even with only one leg bent, the blanket doesn’t entirely cover his legs, allowing Rey to still catch sight of some skin. She props up her chin and leans against the arm rest furthest from Kylo and pretends to act aloof.

“How about this?” Rey asks, not really seeing the show she’s picked until she hears a snort.

“_The Bachelorette_? Seriously? Should I preemptively end our friendship?” He doesn’t look impressed and Rey can’t really blame him.

“Hear me out. I don’t watch this show either, but it’s the only thing on. Would you rather watch the world news and be depressed?”

“Fine, fine, fine. Let’s watch—” Kylo squints at the blonde woman on the screen. “Dany find her true love.”

Despite both knowing that the show is absolute garbage, it doesn’t stop either of them becoming engrossed with the unnecessary drama that unfolds on screen. 

“I’ve never watched _The Bachelorette_ but these guys seem worse than the girls. Where do they get these people from?” Kylo asks with wonder when the credits roll and the next episode preview comes on. 

“I don’t know, but I feel so sorry for Dany. Like, we’re the last people to give advice but goddamn,” Rey says as her phone rings. 

“No, but seriously. That weird double date they had to take her on? Or rather she took them on? And how that guy didn’t know how to cook? I mean, I get it, people can’t cook. You’re probably the living example of that—” Rey puts a hand over her phone and lets out an indignant ‘Hey!’ but Kylo continues, ignoring her. “—but come on! Don’t blend an avocado!! I thought everyone knew, at the very least, that avocados have a great big giant seed in the middle! What kind of—”

Rey grabs Kylo’s shoulder roughly, enough to interrupt his spiel before he gives himself an aneurysm. “Holy shit, Kylo, calm down! That was the locksmith. He’s coming up the stairs now.”

“Good,” he replies in a clipped tone. 

After untangling himself from the blanket wound around his legs, Kylo storms out of Rey’s apartment, closing the door with surprising gentleness. Rey stares at her door, listening to the muffled voices outside, and tries to not be hurt by Kylo’s sudden exit. A thank you would’ve been nice, but judging from how eccentric he is, she shouldn’t be surprised.

She heads to the kitchen and starts dumping their cups in the sink with the rest of her dishes that have accumulated over the week, wondering if she can leave them for another day, when there’s a knock at her door. 

She doesn’t go to answer it straight away. Instead, she mulls over who she hopes is there. She hopes it’s Kylo, saying how he’s left something behind, even though he had nothing to leave behind in the first place. A part of her hopes it to be someone else, knowing full well that no one knocks on her door. 

When she opens the door and finds Kylo, the last thing she expects him to say is, “I forgot to leave the door unlocked.”

Rey can’t help but be annoyed. “You locked yourself out again? The locksmith was literally just here! If you run, you can catch up to him.” She pokes her head out and peers down the hall, as if the locksmith would magically appear at the top of the stairs.

“That’s not what I mean.” 

Rey turns back to Kylo, becoming aware of just how close they are. He’d put on some pants but still has a loose shirt on. He swallows, looking for the right words, and Rey tries not to be distracted by his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“I thought we were gonna watch the next episode.”

“Huh?”

She’s openly gaping at him now. She looks ridiculous and she knows it, but she honestly thought he wasn’t going to come back. 

He jingles the new set of keys in his pocket and starts to leave. “Oh, okay. Umm, this is awkward. Shit, okay, yeah, sorry. I misunderstood. I’ll ah—” 

Before he can get away, Rey grabs his arm, her mind still not fully comprehending what is happening. “You looked like you hated it. You went on a rant.”

Kylo shrugs, diverting his face to hide his embarrassment. “I guess I’m a masochist like that.”

Is this how it all begins? The fantasy friendship she’s always desired? Her eyes flick to the space above his head, something she’s done many times when they pass each other in the hallway, and it remains blank. There’s still no timer.

She pulls him inside with a tentative tug, heart expanding when he follows eagerly. “I only have junk food to sustain us through how ever many episodes are airing at the moment.”

“We can go out for food later,” he says without missing a beat. 

She feels like an idiot and she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but the implication rings throughout her head as they settle back on her couch and she can’t hide her smile. Her smile only grows when true to his word, Kylo drags her out of the house for food after four more episodes of _The Bachelorette_. Is this what it feels like to have a crush? Or rather, interact with said crush? 

It didn’t matter. For once in her life, she has something to be excited about. 

* * *

She’s reciprocating as he had suspected. 

Kylo had to make sure he didn’t scare her or make her suspicious. He had to make sure she was the one who made the active move to keep him in her apartment; he merely gave her the push she needed.

She craves affection but refuses to ask for it. He will remedy this, which will make them grow closer.

He needs them to be close for this whole experiment to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, someone tried to blend a whole avocado on The Bachelorette Australia. Let that sink in. The Bachelorette also had to eat the abomination ajhsjgkjsdgjsdklb idec if it was staged, it was horrifying to watch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for some smut aye

There’s only a few staff members milling about in the break room when Rey arrives to work, all in their own worlds. Slipping in quickly and quietly, Rey stores her lunch in one of the fridges and leaves before anyone tries to make conversation with her. Not that anyone would. She’s been at Coruscant Institute of Forensic Medicine long enough for everyone to know she’s not one for small talk, or any talk, for that matter. 

She’s been bringing food to work for over a week, a welcome change from the overpriced sandwiches from nearby cafes. Initially, she thought Kylo was pained by the fact that she bought lunch every day, but the effort he puts into her meals—making sure there’s enough leftovers for her lunch—is something else entirely. Her heart skips a beat with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips when she reads the small note he always includes in her lunchbox. Apart from an all too brief time during her childhood, no one has taken care of her like this.

Stowing her belongings in her locker, Rey grabs a fresh lab gown, and makes her way to the lab. She sets about her work, thinking of the other ways Kylo takes care of her.

When Kylo barged into her apartment a week ago, she didn’t really expect that her love life would change, much less that it would skyrocket. Hell, she tried to make a conscious effort to not get her hopes up, and was happy to just have his friendship. But then one thing led to another, they kissed, and began having sex not long after. Their relationship has been a whirlwind, and still is, but Rey wouldn’t have it any other way. She feels safe around him. 

She didn’t realise exactly how quick and willing she would be to fall for someone. She was initially surprised by how natural it felt to be physically close to Kylo, and she loves to snuggle against his firm chest and craves skin to skin contact with him. She had been more hesitant before they kissed, but since then it’s been a struggle to keep her hands to herself. 

She doesn’t know if what she feels for him is love, but it’s damn close. For once, she's glad she doesn't have many people in her life—there's no one to call her naive or tell her she's moving too fast. Her stomach can flutter at the thought of Kylo in peace. 

Her work used to be the most stimulating thing in her life, and she was completely engrossed in it; but now she finds herself glancing at the clock a bit too much, counting down the minutes until she can see Kylo again. 

She’s staring at the clock now, teeth gnawing at her lip, thinking about new positions they can try when she gets home, when a voice interrupts her thoughts. 

“You look different, Rey.”

Rey turns away from the clock and shoots her boss, Dr. Kalonia, a sharp look. Smiling, the older lady throws her a wink before scribbling some notes onto the patient file in front of her. 

“Have you met someone?” Dr. Kalonia asks when Rey doesn’t reply.

“I’m...Um…” Rey’s isn’t used to sharing anything about herself at work, which is sort of ridiculous, considering how much she knows about her boss. 

Once a doctor at Hanna City Hospital, Dr. Harter Kalonia has been Rey’s boss and mentor the entire time she’s been employed at the Coruscant Institute. Now a coroner, she has no other assistants, only Rey. Some time ago, Rey had found out it was at the insistence of the other pathologists at their workplace—because no one else wanted to have her as their assistant.

She has a great deal of respect for Dr. Kalonia. Like every person whose timer she’s had the misfortune of seeing, Rey has kept a distance between them, and Dr. Kalonia has never forced Rey to talk about herself, or seemed offended by Rey’s short responses. There isn’t a lot of talk in Dr. Kalonia’s room to begin with, but the doctor sometimes shares small anecdotes about her family and past life as an ER doctor. Rey gets an invite for after work drinks every now and then, but other than that, Dr. Kalonia doesn’t try to involve herself, and she is eternally grateful for that.

There’s an understanding between them, a mutual respect for Rey’s privacy, but despite all this, it doesn’t stop Dr. Kalonia from commenting. “Whatever the reason is, I’m glad. You look happier.”

Rey does her best to concentrate on her work, which comes easy when she’s sawing through a ribcage, but the doctor’s words repeat in her head on the way home after work. 

She never considered herself to be a lovesick fool by any means, but it looks like that changed. She wants to bury her face in her hands in embarrassment for being caught daydreaming at work, but Dr. Kalonia seemed genuinely happy for her change in demeanor. 

There were times in the past where Rey didn’t understand how people could just fall head over heels for someone, but she gets it now. With Kylo, she feels like she's finally living her life, instead of just existing in it. 

“I’m back,” Rey calls out, dumping her bag on the couch and shrugging out of her coat. 

The moment she’s inside, her senses are filled with the delicious aroma of whatever Kylo is cooking. He’s easy to spot in her small apartment; his expansive back is towards her as he busies himself at the stove. His suit jacket is neatly draped over a chair, with his signature pair of gloves folded on top. He must have to work tonight, judging from his kempt appearance.

Like always, he’s wearing one of his black three piece suits. It’s only when they have days off together that she sees him in casual attire, but the suit still makes Rey’s heart race. Maybe it’s because he instinctively straightens his back and brings himself to his full height when he’s in his work wear. When it’s just them and he doesn't have to work, he's usually wearing a dark shirt and sweatpants, and he tends to hunch his shoulders and curve his back in an attempt to match Rey’s height. It’s sweet and she knows this is how Kylo naturally is. 

He looks imposing when he towers over her though. She should take him seriously in his suit, especially what he does for work could be similar to an assassin, but she can’t. He could be doing terrible things at work, but Rey will always know him to be her awkward neighbor who sometimes acts before he thinks, and makes the time to cook for his girlfriend so she doesn’t have to live off of frozen meals. 

“Dinner’s ready soon,” Kylo says, not looking up from the stove.

Curious, Rey leans back against the counter and peers into the saucepan. “A bit ambitious, don’t you think? Making pasta sauce without an apron?”

Kylo scoffs. “I like to live on the edge, but please. You think I’m clumsy enough to do that?” The moment the words leave his mouth, Kylo sidesteps and looks between the saucepan and her suspiciously. “Don’t stain my suit.”

“Ha, don’t worry.” Rey spies a knife lying on the chopping board with the ends of carrots pushed to one side. A shiver runs through her body, and she rubs her legs together instinctively. 

When she can, she watches him cook, mesmerised by how his hand firmly holds the knife’s handle, his index finger relaxed against the heel of the blade, as he deftly slices through vegetables and fillets meat. As far as she knows, he’s not a chef, but he works the knife like a professional. 

She’s been reduced to a blubbering mess by those very same hands numerous times, his thick fingers working her cunt until she leaves bruises on his shoulders from her hold.

“There are other ways to ruin your suit,” Rey says suggestively, giving Kylo a quick peck on the cheek before she starts pulling her sweater over her head and goes to her bedroom. She can feel his eyes on her, especially when she unclasps her bra before disappearing into her room. 

She squeals with delight a few seconds later when he tackles her from behind; the two of them fall into her bed, entangling themselves with each other. Kylo looks down at her with such emotion that it always takes Rey’s breath away. Leaning down, he catches her mouth, running his tongue over her bottom lip before meeting hers. Even though they’ve done it many times before, her toes still curl when they kiss. He always kisses as if it’ll be his last, like his life depends on it, and her body always arches towards him, eagerly pressing herself against his solid torso to receive them.

They’re like a couple of teenagers, always abandoning whatever they’re doing at the first sight of skin or suggestive look directed at the other. It’s not the first time she’s distracted Kylo from cooking, and it won’t be the last. He never sighs in exasperation, but always enthusiastically follows her lead.

Just like now—Kylo is palming and squeezing her breasts with his massive hands in ways that make Rey want to stretch her body out like a cat before she tightly wraps her legs around his torso and never wants to let go. Her breasts aren’t large or spectacular by any means, but Kylo nips, sucks, bites, and kisses her soft flesh as if they’re the greatest set of tits he’s ever seen.

But then again, they are the only set he’s seen.

Rey was surprised when she found out he had the exact same amount of sexual experience as her—which was zero. The more she found out about him, the more she realised how lucky she was to have met him. It was like the stars had aligned for Rey and Kylo to meet; it must have been a million to one chance to meet someone without a timer, and living so close to her as well! She would thank God if she believed in such a thing, so all she could do was thank her past self for persevering through the terrible times that ended up leading her to Kylo.

She’s brought out of her thoughts by Kylo pulling her underwear off and pressing his hot tongue against her entrance. He’s always eager to please her. When he first tried this, there was a lot of uncomfortable bumping of teeth against her pubic bone, but he learned quickly. Rey is wet and ready ninety percent of the time and yet, Kylo always takes the time to make her come this way first. He’s obsessed with it, his once awkward fingers and tongue now skillful, and he always makes it a habit to watch her fall apart.

Rey had covered her face at first, which caused Kylo to frown. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, carefully prying her hands from her face.

Now, Rey wholeheartedly welcomes the electric waves of pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets with every inch of her life as Kylo ruthlessly delves into her. Her leg pokes into the air at a weird angle, her toes splayed and twitching. She digs her heels into his shoulders, kneading his back to the rhythm of her orgasm. He’s watching her. He always watches, ready to stimulate and elongate her orgasm so he can watch her longer. They’ve fucked many times since their first time, to the point that Rey is constantly amazed by their combined stamina, but he always savors each moment for as long as possible. 

Her body becoming weak, Rey paws at Kylo’s shoulder to shimmy himself up. He does as he’s told, her body rocking side to side as his hunk of a body shifts on her mattress to hastily remove the rest of his clothes. She can feel his hot and heavy cock above her, bouncing so close to her lips, but never touching, as he straddles her face. His hair is a mess, falling over his eyes and obscuring them, but she can see his barely parted lips, waiting for the warmth to surround him.

Breathing heavily, she opens her mouth and whines until he slides his length down her throat. It can’t go all the way in, but Rey’s determined it will in due time. 

He gently fucks her mouth, careful to not suffocate her, but enough that her nails sink into his ass, wantonly urging him closer. 

As much as she wants to, Rey can’t watch him, her eyes are tearing up from lack of oxygen. Through the haze, she can see his blurred figure above her, most likely holding onto the bed frame for his life. Trembling, it never ceases to amaze her how lustful she becomes when he’s around, her wetness thick and uncomfortable at the apex of her thighs. Kylo always knows when it’s the right time to pull himself from her throat, his cock coated with her saliva, but not so much that Rey can’t still feel the delicious burn when he enters her. 

Eyes still blurry as oxygen slowly creeps back into her brain, Rey almost chokes at how full he makes her feel. As he snaps his hips, he tenderly cradles her, one of his palms cupping and covering her entire throat as his large fingers nudge her lips, while his other hand roams over her back. He’s trying to touch every part of her: her shoulders, her ribcage, her ass, her thighs—everything. He’s obsessed with feeling every inch of her smooth skin. 

Shifting his position as he fucks into her, one of his hands now holds her wrists above her head—only one is ever needed—while the other presses into her stomach in an attempt to keep her still when she inevitably comes again. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel his own cock nudge against his palm from inside. He’s so big.

There are times when she takes control, roughhousing him so that he’s pinned to the bed as she rides him with fervour, but today is not one of those days. 

Her eyes half-closed in pleasure, Rey hums in her afterglow as Kylo thrusts a few more times before spilling himself within her. Her thighs sticky with sweat and his essence when he eventually pulls out, her cunt clenching at his absence. Her smile stretches when she feels his lips press into her forehead before hearing him shuffle to the bathroom, followed by the sharp squeak of the tap.

She drifts in and out of sleep while Kylo wipes her down with a warm cloth. He takes care of her so well and she selfishly lets him. 

It feels like she’s slept for an hour, but when Kylo gently shakes her awake, only thirty minutes have passed. He sits on the edge of her bed, dressed in his suit once again—a stark difference to her naked body, but Rey sits up, confident and unbothered, and kisses his jaw. 

“Dinner’s on the table.” His voice rumbles against her lips.

“You’re not eating with me?” she asks, disappointment clear in her voice.

“Mmm, I already ate,” he replies, softly biting the shell of her ear. 

Whether he means literal food or passing off sex as his meal, Rey growls in displeasure, knowing he has to leave soon. 

“I’ll be back, don’t worry,” he whispers, moving to catch her lips. 

It’s these small things he says that ease Rey’s worries. He doesn’t know about her childhood—how her parents had abandoned her on the street, which resulted in the following thirteen years of her life being bounced around from foster home to foster home, thus resulting in personal and emotional issues. It’s been hard to bring up the topic, especially since she’s passed it off as a joke most her life. It was the only way for her to cope with the crushing heartache. She always kept her cool whenever he whispered comforting reassurances that he isn’t leaving, and her heart races every time he does so. She continues to tell herself it’s not a big deal, even though it is. 

He holds her and kisses her deeply until one of them has to pull away. 

With a disheartened sigh, she pulls away, lips still tingling, and pats his leg. “Go, or you’ll be late.”

Smiling sadly, Kylo takes his gloves from his pocket and puts them on. Rey’s eyes follow his every move. He flexes his hands and the leather squeaks under the pressure. It’s become a bit of a tradition with his gloves. He always removes them when they’re together but when he slips them on, it’s a sign that he has to go. 

“I’ll see you later.” He drops one last kiss on her lips before leaving.

Rey lies in bed for a few minutes before her stomach starts to protest and she forces herself to the kitchen. Sitting in nothing but her panties and one of Kylo’s large shirts, she crosses a leg under the other and digs into the meal he’s prepared, wondering what his work is like. 

Curiosity catches up with her every now and then. She’s looked up his company on the internet and their website is as vague as a private security contractor is expected to be. She wants to ask Kylo about it, but she hasn’t had the chance. She either gets distracted or never thinks to ask when he’s around. She could text or call him, but it always feels impersonal to do such a thing. 

Their relationship is still young. There’s plenty of time to know all there is about each other. 

* * *

Rey dreams of their first time that night.

_Eyes wide and chest heaving, Kylo slowly slides into her. All she can see is his face and how he trembles at every squeeze and every caress. His lips are parted in eternal awe of her, sharply gasping as she rolls her hips to meet his. The look of adoration he has for her, the way he bites his lips and his eyes shimmer as he_—

Everything is ripped from her in a snap.

Kylo is gone and Rey is back in the neverending abyss she’s dreamed of for the past week or so, shaking at the sudden change. There are goosebumps all over her skin, her body still sensitive and responding to what she’d been dreaming about a moment ago.

She curses herself as she turns around to see the familiar figure of Death standing not far from her. Her cunt traitorously clenches at the sight of him. Rey tries to tell herself that it’s just the after effects of her dream, but a part of her is afraid to admit the other possibility. The reason that—

Rey’s had this dream many times. It always plays out one of two ways. 

Death either circles her, ghosting his fingers across her shoulders and against her hair, or Rey tries to reach out and touch Death instead.

Death is standing completely still this time, waiting for what she does next.

Rey now knows Death is a man, for she’s pulled back part of his robes in the past to reveal a strong clavicle, an Adam’s apple, a soft chin, and a thick set of lips. 

She always traces his lips when she has the chance. Something familiar niggles at the back of her mind, but she ignores it, too preoccupied with exploring Death. She’s hoping she can pull back his hood this time, but her arms are heavy and she’s forced to move slowly. 

Her dream always ends the same way.

Rey watches with her heart pounding as he parts his lips. Her fingertips are still on the edge of his lips and she doesn’t feel him speak, but his words ring true in her head.

_“I’ll come back for you. I promise.”_

* * *

With the moonlight falling over him, Kylo stands in the middle of his apartment. It’s completely empty of furniture, with sterile white walls akin to hospitals. His back is rigid and his eyes are cold as he stares at the space before him.

“I’m getting the job done. What is the problem?” he asks, voice low and devoid of emotion other than disdain.

_“Our Elder wants to know why you are taking so long.”_

“I need to make sure she is the one.”

_“A bit unnecessary, don’t you think? This was an easy open-close case for you, or are you really as incompetent as I thought?”_

Kylo bristles at the source’s words. “I don’t answer to you. If the Elder has an issue with my method, he can bring his concerns directly to me. He doesn’t need to send his _rabid cur_.”

There’s a degrading laugh that only serves to grate on Kylo’s nerves. _“You must be mistaken. We do not have concerns. We are simply amused and curious as to why you chose this method.”_

“Like I said, I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

_“Fine._” The invisible man sniffs in disdain. “_Let me make this clear then: your time is running out, even with all the souls you collect. You must end this charade.”_

“_I_ will,” Kylo spits, a black bladed scythe appearing in his hand. “This assignment may be taking longer than you anticipated, but I am still doing my job—which is more than what I can say for you.”

The invisible being merely hums and doesn’t rise to the bait. _“You’re going to have to collect double the amount of souls if you plan to drag this out even longer. Bring us back some juicy ones. After all, we have a reputation to uphold.”_

The transmission cuts off with a crack of thunder. 

To the outsider, Kylo looks composed with his hands comfortably clasped but all that crumbles when his lip trembles.

The unmistakable sound of heavy raindrops falling follows soon after, reminding Kylo that he has to brave the weather to finish his daily task, but that’s not the issue. Collecting souls is effortless, but with it comes the stark reminder that he is not human, and that what he has with Rey is not real and only temporary. 

He takes a deep breath and memories float to the surface, no matter how hard he tries to stop them. Their kisses, her warmth around him, stretching to take all of him, the sweet sound of her sharp intake of air…

…the way her eyes widened, her soul laid bare for him when he entered her for the first time, snapping something that had laid dormant before. 

He stumbles with a gasp and cradles his head, his other hand seeking purchase against the window. He’s never felt this way in his life, that he knows of; as a Reaper; or before, when he was a human. Or maybe he has, but as a Reaper, feeling such things is unnecessary. This affection and attachment is not needed as a Reaper, it’s something he’s never cared for, but ever since he began interacting with Rey, it’s festered and become something that frightens him. It almost makes him feel alive, and that’s something he cannot afford to feel. 

Because none of it is real.

Kylo takes out his scythe and flings it across the room with an enraged roar. The blade lodges itself against the wall for a moment before disappearing and materialising in his hand once more. The wall is devoid of any mark, because with now that his scythe is out, Kylo has phased into the dimension Grim Reapers use to collect souls.

No one can hear him, not even Rey who sleeps next door. His heart aches and he wants to cry, but no one but the Reapers would hear or see him. He can’t let that happen. He can’t let them know how close he’s become to his assignment. 

They must never know how much he loves her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀👀👀👀👀


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your continuous support 🥺 I'm really glad that it's hooked so many of you! 💖

Clouds gathered across the Coruscant sky, angry rumbles and flashes of lightning threatening to escape. Shrouded in darkness, Kylo silently follows a greying man, making sure to sidestep anyone passing while keeping a distance from his target. He watches as the man turns into an alleyway, but doesn’t hasten his pace to follow. Instead, he takes his time, keeping to the shadows as he rounds the corner. 

There’s a scuffle between Kylo’s target and another man—someone of little to no consequence. He catches snippets of what they’re saying—_you stole from me_—before it descends into a brawl, which results in a rusty knife protruding out of the greying man’s midsection. There’s no one else in the alleyway save the three of them, the early hours of Coruscant saving Kylo the worry of accidentally Bequeathing anyone, not that he would be that sloppy. 

He always wears gloves for a reason.

With cold, dead eyes, Kylo waits for the outline of the man’s soul to appear. He doesn’t have to wait long; a transparent double soon sits up from the unmoving body. The ghostly man clutches his torso, groping his stomach in search for the knife that was once there. It takes him a few seconds to realise he’s dead after turning to stare at his body, which lays in a growing pool of blood behind him as his murderer rummages through his pockets.

The man opens his mouth and starts to shriek, arms flailing and passing through the man who had just murdered him. He spots Kylo, and compared to the horror of seeing his own dead body, the man seems more terrified of him. He tries to run, stumbling over his phantom legs, weak wails leaving his mouth as he tries to get away. 

By all appearances, Kylo looks to be a normal person, albeit one who is dressed rather eccentrically, but in the Reaper dimension, the stench of death permeates the air that only he and the ghost can smell. 

In space grey battle regalia comprised of a tunic, pants, and leather boots with matching belt, Kylo stalks towards him, his footsteps reverberating through the ghost’s soul. He sports a black cape that sits on his left shoulder and drapes over his arm, a strap stretching across his chest and sitting snugly at his rib cage. It billows despite the absence of wind, serving to make Kylo appear all the more sinister. 

There’s death in his eyes, and his uncovered arm tightly grips a shining scythe. There’s a crack of thunder before heavy rain starts pouring, and it drenches Kylo within seconds. The rain emphasises his terrifying appearance, his hair now sticking to his face and further obscuring his features. The only part of his face the man can see are his lips, pressed together in a firm line as water sluices down his tightened jaw.

The man’s shrill cry is cut short as Kylo’s scythe whistles through the air, crimson streaks of glowing light painting the alleyway as he Cleaves the man’s soul. There’s another clap of thunder and the man is gone—in his place is Kylo’s scythe, the blade glowing red. Electricity crackles in the air and his scythe purrs in sync with it, pulsating in his hand. 

The man’s murderer is still there, dragging the body to the side of the alley in an attempt to hide it, but Kylo ignores him. His timer still has years before someone from Snoke’s Order comes to collect.

Suddenly, all sound is sucked from his surroundings, replaced by a voice that always sends chills down his spine.

_“Kylo Ren. Why do you keep insisting on extending your stay? You keep bringing me these _souls,” the voice spits. _“As if it will be enough. Time is running out, Master of the Knights of Ren. What will you do?”_ asks a voice only Kylo can hear. It’s low and reverberates through his ear, each word slithering and driving unreasonable fear into him.

“I only need a bit more time. I promise, the payoff will be worth it.” Kylo keeps his head down, as if the being who instills such fear stands before him.

_“My patience wanes with each pathetic soul you collect.”_

Kylo braces himself for his verdict, whether his extension is approved or not, but only the sound of rain remains, growing louder with each passing second. He looks around, hoping to see some sort of hint towards being allowed to stay for another month. 

“_Ben_.”

Kylo’s head snaps up so fast that his neck cracks. He looks around for the source, eyes eventually falling on his target’s murderer, but comes to the conclusion it’s not him. 

“_Ben_.”

There. There it is again. A female voice that holds so much regret.

Brandishing his scythe, the red now fading to obsidian, Kylo takes a step towards where it could possibly be coming from and bumps shoulders with the other man in the alley.

The man looks around, confused, but sees no one. Kylo’s heart is racing as he takes a few steps back for good measure, and berates himself for being a fool. He hopes Reaper Hux isn’t watching, because he cannot take his mocking tone at this time. He can just imagine what the ginger haired reaper would say: _Reaper Kylo Ren, clumsy fool who cannot keep clear of humans on a simple collection run. What is Elder Snoke thinking, giving him such a prestigious role when he cannot even assess a simple girl?_

Scowling, Kylo stomps out of the alleyway. It’s still nighttime in the city and as much as he wants to go home to Rey, it’s too early. The night has just begun and there are still plenty of white outlines roaming the city, all with various single and double digits floating above their heads. 

He firmly ignores what his subconscious shouts at him as he strides through the streets: that this farce has gone on for too long, and that he’s become more attached to her than he had ever imagined possible. _I’ll figure something out_, he continues to tell himself, but for now, he flexes his hands, excited for when he can take his gloves off and touch Rey again.

He stops at an intersection and looks to the sky. He’s drenched to the bone, but it doesn’t bother him. The only thing human about him is his physical body. He will never fall ill and the amount of pain he can feel is limited to how much his body can endure, but at the end of the day, it’s inconsequential. 

After all, he’s not really alive.

He is a Grim Reaper. In exchange for everlasting life, he offered his soul, and with it, eternal servitude to collect criminals’ souls. 

There is a delicate balance between the living and the dead, and reapers such as himself are responsible for keeping the realms safe. Souls tainted by darkness are part of his domain, while other Reaper factions take care of other types of souls. 

It’s not Kylo’s responsibility to judge the souls he collects, nor does he concern himself with the souls’ eventual fate. The Grim Reaper’s job is to disconnect souls from their bodies and force them to move on. If they were to linger in the living realm, the souls would manifest into something sinister, slowly corrupting mortals and eventually tipping the balance. Who knows what would result if there were too many dead souls wandering amongst the living?

There are many reapers to meet the constant demand of souls passing over. 

Kylo’s job is never idle. He is a reaper with one of the highest numbers of successful Cleavings, and due to such an accomplishment, his Elder bestowed upon him the honor of assessing Bequeathed humans. 

Rey is the first human he’s assessed. He cannot fail, but he feels he already has. 

He’s been on this assignment longer than other reapers take with theirs. Normally, it takes a day, a week at most, to evaluate Bequeathed humans. 

Kylo has been masquerading as a human for this assessment for over a month now. 

His Elder is not happy. Kylo is being mocked among the ranks, he can feel it, but he must commit to his plan. _He must_, since he’s already come this far.

Other reapers spend such little time on their assignments, and Kylo can’t help but wonder if the new reapers they’re receiving are any good. 

Compared to other reapers, Kylo hasn’t been around that long, only twenty years or so, but he’s observant. The amount of new reapers turning up is alarming, which begs the question: how are they being assessed? Every Bequeathed individual shouldn’t be given an automatic pass, and it seems to him that there shouldn’t be so many Bequeathed to begin with; or at least, not to this extent. 

The quality of reapers is also declining. Kylo can see this during the time he spends in the Records Room, the place where all Bequeathed individuals are recorded and documented. It was where he’d spent the majority of his early Reaper days, and he finds himself returning there to monitor the situation whenever he has the chance. The amount of newly Bequeathed files are staggering compared to when he first stepped foot in the ancient documents room years ago. 

However, he can’t complain or raise his concerns if he’s never actually assessed anyone before. It would be embarrassing to criticise how reapers are assessing humans if he’s never done it himself. There’s already discontent about the high rank he’s been given by Elder Snoke; this would only further aggravate the other factions. 

For a relatively young reaper such as himself to become the Master of the Knights of Ren, it’s no wonder that Reaper Hux of the First Order is disgruntled. That ginger haired vermin values hierarchy over anything else. 

But what angers Hux is no concern of Kylo. Kylo hasn’t accidentally Bequeathed anyone in the thousands of soul collecting missions he’s been on. He checks his name often enough to be sure. He cannot claim the same for Hux and his faction.

Flexing his hands once more, Kylo checks that every part of him is covered. From the gloves on his hands to his pants tucked into his high boots, he doesn’t allow any part of his skin to be exposed for accidental Bequeathing. Others are not so cautious, leaving for their missions without their gloves or proper uniform. A single touch of reaper skin is all it takes to bestow the Bequeathing curse upon a human, regardless of how much time is left to them. 

Despite the sheer amount of Bequeathed humans that require assessment, the assessing reaper must not half ass their job. They must be absolutely certain that a Bequeathed human will make a good—no, _great_—Grim Reaper, when they eventually die. 

As ambitious as Kylo’s strategy is, he hopes his method will result in a new generation of reapers who will be motivated to conform to regulations and try not to meddle with humans’ life timers. Reapers don’t retain any of their human memories in order to ensure that they aren’t tempted to irresponsibly save or prolong someone’s life that they knew from when they were alive, but their human traits tend to bleed over to their reaper selves more often than not. And some reapers are just dumb.

It’s a cruel irony that Kylo’s first assignment is what’s making him entertain prolonging someone’s life for the very first time.

It’s a dangerous game he’s playing, and he should end it before he does something he’ll regret...

...but until then, he has to continue to collect souls in hopes of appeasing his master, in order to cherish the limited time he has left with Rey.

He believes the Elder will allow him to stay, but there’s no way of knowing if he hasn’t been told outright; all he can do is wait and see. He’ll know when his time is up though. It’ll be hard to miss the change in Rey’s demeanor when a timer appears above his head for her to see.

* * *

Days later, he finds himself in a bathtub far too small for a body of his shape and size. Rey’s tub is on the larger side of apartment bathtubs, but it’s still too small for him, let alone for the both of them, but they make it work somehow. 

He’s had a stressful couple of days, and a nice soak with Rey’s body against him is just the thing he needs. He’s the one who suggested it and Rey all but jumped at the idea of having a bath together. 

With her hair up in three buns, Rey hums contentedly, giggling every now and then at how absurd they must look. And he doesn’t blame her. 

His legs are tented to accommodate Rey, who rests her back against his chest. His knees and half his legs dried a long time ago. In fact, not much of him is actually in the water, but it doesn’t bother him at all. He’s happy playing with the strands of hair at the base of Rey’s neck, while his other hand idly cups her boob, thumb swiping over her nipple until it hardens. There’s nothing erotic about it and she doesn’t squirm with a lusty need. His hand is just comfortable weight resting on her chest, like how her whole body is to him. 

“Why three?” he asks, poking his finger through the loop of one of her buns. He’s seen her come home from work with the three bun hairstyle multiple times and he’s always wondered about it. 

“It gets all my hair,” Rey replies. She self consciously flattens the strands that have come loose at the base of her neck. “Three buns feel sturdier than one and it doesn’t come loose as often. Helps with my work, you know?”

Kylo nuzzles his nose against the top of her head. “It’s cute.”

A moment passes before Rey tilts her head back and looks at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. “Did you want to talk about it?”

Kylo backs up slightly and looks at her, confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever’s bothering you. After all, you did just come home and pull me to the bathroom, asking for a bath.”

Kylo loathes himself already for fabricating this relationship under false pretenses, but it intensifies when he thinks about how he uses his reaper powers to deceive Rey, casting a veil of compulsion so she never questions certain details of his life. She never asks him about his life outside of the part he spends with her, so it must show in his demeanor how tired he is. 

He briefly debates whether to lie or force a stronger compulsion over her, but enough is enough. He wants what little they do have to be real, at the very least.

“Work,” he says with a laugh. “I’m trying something new with some security contracts I’m getting and my boss isn’t the happiest about how long I’m taking to close those cases.” It’s not the entire truth, but it’s a good middle ground. 

He hears Rey chuckle. “Now you really sound like an assassin.”

“Believe me. My job is a hundred times more boring than an assassin’s.” Which is true. Aside from the initial screams when the souls realise what’s about to happen, Kylo’s job is extremely uneventful. He can’t be hurt by the souls and he can’t lose them either. Without the strife between factions, being a Grim Reaper would be a very monotonous job. 

“What’s your family like, Kylo?” Rey asks suddenly, half turning her body so she can look at him, resting her cheek against one of his knees.

Kylo has no idea how to answer the question, and he hopes his face doesn’t betray his thoughts, but the words come tumbling out from his mouth before he can stop them. 

“My mom was probably the strongest person I knew. She’s a real fighter, always stuck up for the less fortunate, and sure as fuck never yelled at me when I was being a little shit. And I was a little shit a lot of the time.” Kylo keeps his head forward and focuses on the faucet at the opposite end of the tub. His eyes are glazed over and he feels his body start to tremble as he recounts memories he doesn’t have. “My dad…” The words won’t leave his mouth anymore. Something is stopping him—something.

Rey is watching him with softened eyes. “They’re not around anymore?” 

“No,” he hears himself whisper. 

What was happening? As much as Kylo wants to believe what he’s just said is fake, a part of him knows it’s not. It tastes like truth on his tongue and as hard as he tries to follow the threads inside his mind, he comes up empty. He can’t even conjure his parent’s faces. 

He startles suddenly, almost hitting his head against the bathroom wall. Rey’s hand is hovering centimetres from his cheek. “What are you doing?” he asks, internally wincing at how harsh he sounds.

Rey doesn’t reply. Instead, she keeps moving, turning to face him completely. Her knees are pressed together to fit between his legs and with one hand braced on the rolls of his stomach, her other reaches up and rubs his cheek. 

It’s wet.

He’s crying.

_Why? For whom?_

He wants to get out of the tub. He wants to throw on his clothes and tell Rey he has to go to work—anything to get away from her. He’s not in the right state of mind to be interacting with her now. He’s too vulnerable.

But his body refuses to move. 

Like a caged animal, Kylo presses himself against the back of the tub, trying his best to scoot away from Rey and failing. 

Rey frowns at him. “It’s okay, Kylo,” she says softly. There’s hurt in her eyes, probably because he’s never behaved like this around her. “I know what it’s like to lose your family.” 

This is the first time Rey’s mentioned her past, despite being together for many weeks. Kylo should be ecstatic, it signals the next step in their relationship, which he supposes is good for his plan, but he feels anything but. 

“I understand, Kylo,” she says and moves to loop her arms around his neck. 

He tenses immediately, unsure of what’s happening. He should be hugging and consoling _her_, not the other way around. 

“It’s okay,” she repeats as she buries her face into his neck. “It took me a long time to admit this is what I needed when it happened. It’s okay to cry.” He doesn’t hug her back, arms remaining motionless over the tub, but Rey doesn’t say anything about it. She merely tightens her hold. 

Kylo is still staring straight ahead when fresh tears start to fall. He doesn’t sob or dry heave. He doesn’t know why he’s still crying, or even why he began to in the first place, but he cannot seem to stop.

They stay like this until the water turns cold and their skin prunes. He eventually stops crying, and he can’t remember who finally suggested it, but they eventually untangle themselves from each other and shuffle to the bedroom.

As Kylo tucks Rey’s head under his chin—a force of habit at this point—his mind wanders. 

Kylo Ren is a Grim Reaper. He is not alive. He does not need to sleep, but he can force himself if he needs to. He’s done it multiple times when he’s stayed at Rey’s overnight, but he doesn’t benefit from it. He’s not ‘rested’ when he wakes up, his state is the same at all times.

Similarly, he doesn’t dream; he hasn’t since he became a reaper. But as he drifts to the familiar blank canvas that is his ‘sleep’, he hears a male voice whisper to him. It’s soft enough that he doesn’t wake as he falls asleep but he will remember it later, clear as day.

The voice repeats one word that will continue to haunt Kylo in the following days. 

“_Ben._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo's Grim Reaper clothes are basically his Star Wars costume. More specifically, his outfit is inspired by [Clara Gemm](https://twitter.com/ClaraGemm)'s art [here.](https://twitter.com/ClaraGemm/status/1126143069185822720/photo/2)


	5. Chapter 5

Days have passed and Rey is still mulling over what happened in the bathtub. They haven’t spoken about it and to be fair, Rey doesn’t feel it’s her place to broach the topic, not when she’s been unwilling to divulge similar information about her own past. They’ve been in a bubble of bliss this whole time and she doesn’t want it to end, but it’s probably time. 

“My leave is next week,” Dr. Kalonia says, interrupting Rey’s thoughts of figuring out how to dump twenty years of baggage on Kylo without scaring him away. 

Rey looks up from the spot she’s been staring at on the body that lies between them. “What?”

“My leave. I’m reminding you that I’ll be Hanna City next week.” Dr. Kalonia sits back on her stool and crosses her arms across her chest. “I want to meet this boy, or girl, one day, Rey. Whoever has you daydreaming at work must be special,” she says with a grin. 

Heat creeps up Rey’s neck but she refuses to acknowledge it. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Dr. Kalonia scoffs. “Oh, I know it won’t, but it’s nice seeing you livening up a bit.”

“So you’re going to Hanna City next week,” Rey says, changing the topic. She ignores the smirk from her boss and continues. “Any occasion?”

Thankfully, Dr. Kalonia has mercy on Rey and humors her. She pulls her seat closer to the steel table and proceeds with the autopsy. “It’s the anniversary of my friend’s passing. I’m meeting up with a few old friends of mine to reminisce. And it’ll be nice to see how much the city has changed.”

“I’m sorry,” Rey says softly. 

Dr. Kalonia waves her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. It’s been twenty years, after all. Pass me the scalpel.” 

Rey drags the underpad lined side table towards them and opens the autoclaved bag with the scalpel inside. 

Dr. Kalonia accepts the proffered utensil. “Thank you. So, about next week,” Dr. Kalonia starts, only to pause as she pushes the blade into the cadaver’s abdomen. 

Humming in question, Rey positions the operating light above them. 

“Do you want to be assigned to another pathologist for the week?”

“Do I have a choice?” Rey asks, watching the place where Dr. Kalonia is carefully lifting the skin back. 

“You can spend the week finishing cases from other doctors, if you want.”

Rey pulls her eyes from the viscera and stares at the top of the doctor’s head. “Really?” 

She can’t help but be suspicious. She’s worked for Dr. Kalonia for almost five years and whenever the doctor went on leave, Rey was always directed to assist another pathologist. She’s never complained about it before, but no other doctor compares to Dr. Kalonia. The rest of them are so chatty_._

“Yep,” Dr. Kalonia replies, popping the p. “And it’ll be closed cases so there won’t be any supervising pathologist needed.”

“So I’ll be alone for the week?”

“Mmhmm.”

The first thing Rey wants to do is accept. It’s the best opportunity she’s had. If anything, it’s what Rey had initially thought working in a mortuary would be like, before she realised she was sadly mistaken; she couldn’t actually be locked in a room all alone with dead bodies as a career—or at least one that paid decently. 

Rey from a year ago would have accepted in a heartbeat. Rey from four years ago would have internally jumped for joy at the rare chance. Rey from her teenage years would have been beyond ecstatic and done whatever it took to make it a permanent thing. 

And yet, the present Rey can’t help but boldly ask. “Why now?”

Dr. Kalonia is about to pull out the liver when Rey asks this. Rey can see the older woman’s mind turning over what she should say in response, the doctor settling with removed her hands from the deceased and giving Rey her full attention. 

“I thought this is what you’ve always wanted.”

“It was.” Dr. Kalonia raises both brows at Rey. “It is,” Rey hastily corrects herself.

Dr. Kalonia hums behind her surgical mask. “Interesting.” Picking up the scalpel once again, the doctor taps it against the underpad in thought. “Well, I couldn’t give you closed cases when you first started. You needed to be trained, and even though closed cases are easy, we can’t allow someone with only a few months’ training to handle them alone. We want our technicians to grow and continuously learn, which is why you were always assigned to another pathologist when I was away. You have enough experience now that one unsupervised week while I’m out of office isn’t a big deal. I guess what I’m saying is that this is a chance for you to see if working alone is what you really want.”

It’s her last sentence that douses Rey with icy awareness. “Is this about your offer?” she asks quietly.

“Yes and no. I understand that you don’t want to go to med school, but continuous education is paramount in medicine, even if it concerns patients who are no longer alive.” The way Dr. Kalonia stares at Rey makes her shift uncomfortably. “I don’t have children, Rey. I’ve never had an interest in that sort of thing, but you’re the closest thing I have to a daughter. Take that how you will. I just want the best for you. Maybe you always decline my offer to enroll you in medical school because you still think working alone is what you want.”

“It is what I want.” Rey’s tone is firm, as if to convince not only Dr. Kalonia, but also herself, that this is what she still wants.

“We’ll see. Now, hand me those specimen containers so I can get some samples for the labs to section.”

* * *

Rey had decided on her career at the tender age of fifteen. By that time, she had experienced the timers’ curse long enough to damage any relationship she’d hoped to forge, which resulted in her intense loneliness growing by the year. 

In her life, Rey had been part of four foster families.

Her earliest years in the system were rough, especially since she didn’t understand where her parents had gone, and couldn’t really remember anything about them to begin with. The fact that she could see numbers that no one else could did not help. 

But she knew and understood from the very beginning that Unkar Plutt, the fat, squashed face man she’d been sent to live with after her family had gone, was not her father. 

She didn’t have a lot of early memories but she knew she had a family at some point. She knew it. Rey couldn’t explain it but there was nothing bad lodged in her memory whenever she tried to remember a time before Plutt. There weren’t any actual experiences she could recall, but she supposed that she’d at least been happy with her family—her real one. 

But they had seemingly abandoned her, leaving her with a monster, so she could only guess that maybe her family wasn’t as happy as she had once thought.

She wondered if it could have had something to do with the numbers she saw above people’s heads.

She had tried asking Plutt about them, but she was never able to utter her question. She was chastised for wasting his time and as much as Rey wanted to know, she could never physically say the words that were trapped in her mind.

Even after her poor living conditions were discovered by the authorities and Rey was transferred to another home, she still didn’t know what the counters were.

Her second home was completely different from her first.

Maz Kanata appeared very old, with skin that had seen too much sun, but she had the energy of a young adult. Rey was curious and Maz always entertained her endless questions with a warm smile, but Rey never got the answer she truly wanted. 

Questions about the numbers always died on Rey’s lips, unable to be spoken.

But it didn’t matter. Maz fed Rey more than Plutt ever had, and gave her the endless love and care that Rey needed and wholeheartedly welcomed. 

Rey was just about ready to accept that she would never know what the numbers were until one day, she saw that Maz’s were nearing dangerously close to zero. 

Time passed and the numbers dwindled as Rey sat in the kitchen, staring with a profound curiosity at her foster mother’s head as her counter ticked down the remaining seconds. Rey couldn’t help but be excited to finally find out what would happen when the mystery counter reached zero—she’d never seen it happen before.

Three.

Two.

One.

In that moment, Rey immediately regretted her excitement and curiosity about the counter, because what it meant was that she had just witnessed the closest thing she would ever have to a loving parent collapse, possibly dead, in her kitchen. And now her useless foster child was standing there, staring dumbly at her foster mother’s unmoving body.

Rey managed to call the paramedics, and by the time they arrived, it was too late for Maz. Rey eventually learned that an aneurysm had ruptured in Maz’s brain, and that unless Maz had seen a doctor about the migraine she'd had very early on, there was no way anyone could’ve seen it coming.

But Rey did.

Rey saw Maz’s timer tick faster and faster after the migraine started, unable to put two and two together. 

Being bumped to another foster home so soon after losing Maz and the discovery of the truth about the timers did no favors for Rey’s emotional state. If anything, it made Rey crawl even deeper back into the withdrawn shell she had built around herself when she was with Plutt. 

There was nothing Rey could do about the timers. She was just a teenager, alone and afraid. She couldn’t ask anyone about it, clearly remembering how Plutt had reacted to her questions, calling her crazy and stupid. Maz was a special case, but the rest of the world wasn’t as kind as Maz. 

So Rey never mentioned it again. 

She was eventually able to block the timers, drawing a kind of thin veil over them with her mind, but she always knew they were there. 

Her third foster family immediately saw that there was something wrong with her, and not wanting to deal with such an odd child, submitted the request for transfer soon after her arrival. Rey wasn’t surprised when the case manager showed up to take her away again; she had heard her foster parents speak in hushed whispers during the night about how weird and freakish Rey was. 

Her fourth and last foster family were nice enough. They were polite and gave her space, which Rey was grateful for, yet saddened by when she would remember the closeness she shared with Maz. They didn’t try to overly involve themselves in her life, and she didn’t try to get involved in theirs. While other people might consider this unfair, Rey wasn’t upset by it. They never hurt her. They didn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. They were just kind strangers who lived under the same roof. Once of legal age, she would be released from their custody and neither party would have to concern themselves with the other anymore. 

She hid the timers and firmly ignored any that had a low number. She just wanted to be alone, because if she was alone then she would never be hurt when someone suddenly died. 

The most logical choice was to work in a morgue. You can’t be hurt by people who were already dead, so Rey focused all her energy on getting the bare minimum requirements for such a career.

Rey had always been somewhat disadvantaged compared to the other kids at school, but she was smart, and she made do with what she had.

It landed her a scholarship at the University of Coruscant, and after three years of study, she graduated at the top of her class with a degree in Forensic Science. 

Her student advisors had tried offering her alternative options after finishing her undergraduate degree, but she wouldn’t hear it. A few of her lecturers had commented that she could go far, possibly even study medicine if she was interested, but Rey didn’t want that. Being a medical doctor was the last thing she wanted. A doctor had to help people at all costs. It’s hard to do that when you can literally see the number of minutes someone has left to live. She could never be a doctor with this curse.

Dr. Kalonia had seen the same potential in Rey within the first few weeks of meeting her. At every annual performance review, the doctor would always suggest additional education to further her career, and every year, Rey would politely decline. She just wanted to be an unknown, unimportant mortuary technician. Other pathologists and administrative staff at the Coruscant Institute of Forensic Medicine couldn’t see how being a mortuary technician could bring any fulfilment to anyone’s life, but Rey didn’t need fulfilment. She just needed to escape the timers, and would do whatever it took to accomplish that. 

That was four years ago.

She’d had the same goal throughout her teenage years and into her early twenties, but now? 

Now she’s not sure exactly what she wants.

* * *

Rey is bone tired by the time she drags her feet over the threshold of her apartment building’s foyer, her mood sour from stewing in her conversation with Dr. Kalonia for the whole day. All she wants to do is curl up on her couch with a hot cup of tea. Ideally, Kylo would be there with her, drawing her close so she’s tucked under the crook of his neck, but she doesn’t know if he’s available. 

_It’s fine_, she tells herself. _You’ve survived this long without relying on anyone, and you can survive not seeing Kylo immediately_. She knows this should not affect her as much as it does, yet she can’t help but feel the echo of annoyance intertwining with her already poor mood. 

She takes out her phone and taps the phone icon, thumb hovering over Kylo’s number, which she has put in her ‘Favorites’. Aside from work contacts, there are no other contacts in her phone. Hell, she didn’t even need to make a ‘Favorites’ list, but she was feeling whimsical at the time, and giddy at the fact that she finally had someone in her life that made her want to have a ‘Favorites’ list at all. 

As much as Rey wants to call him, she can’t bring herself to press the call button. They seldom call each other to begin with, almost always relying on texts instead. In fact, Rey doesn’t think she’s ever called him, and he’s only ever called her the once—when she fell asleep while they were texting and wanted to make sure she was okay. He’s not expecting a phone call. She feels like she can’t spring this upon him, unannounced. Just because she’s feeling vulnerable doesn’t mean he would be actually be free to talk.

With an annoyed growl, mainly directed at herself, Rey pockets her phone and resumes her journey up to her apartment, counting down the minutes until she’ll be able to fall into her bed and hopefully nap to pass the time until Kylo appears, as he tends to do.

Rey tries to concentrate on climbing up the stairs, but her feet are heavy and aching and the going is slow, which only results in her mind drifting back to her conversation with Dr. Kalonia for the umpteenth time. She hasn’t really changed her mind about her career, but she’d be lying to herself if she says she hasn’t imagined a life where she does. 

In an alternate universe perhaps, where life doesn’t grind out the scant bit of optimism she was born with. Maybe in a universe where she isn’t afraid of what the timers would bring, but rather sees them as a challenge—a chance to cheat death, or at least try to help others cheat death. A truly selfless life where she accepts her curse and uses it to her advantage, rather than it making her weak, which is how she sees herself in this one. 

Rather than being disheartened when she’s unable to save someone, Rey would be able to accept she did what she could and leave it at that—the mentality she knows she would need to have if she were to accept Dr. Kalonia’s offer. 

And now, in every scenario she dreams, Kylo is always there to keep her grounded. When days are too trying and she’s unable to see light in her bleak life, he’s there, allowing her the chance to have a normal relationship, unconfined to waiting for a timer to run out.

She doesn’t allow herself to dream often, as it frequently results in her hopes being easily crushed because it’s simply impossible for them to come to fruition. Even daydreaming of having Kylo there in her apartment tonight, ready to welcome her home as she walks through the door is a fantasy she repeatedly tells herself to ignore. 

The word ‘surprised’ doesn’t come close to how Rey reacts after she haphazardly kicks open her door, only to see Kylo standing at the stove with multiple pots going. 

The day fully catches up with Rey as she stands in the doorway, her mouth hanging open, gasping silently. Whether it’s because she’d just been caught up in imagining a life that will never come true, or if it’s Kylo just being there when she had already convinced herself she was being silly for even wishing it so, she doesn’t really know; but big, fat tears spring from her eyes and start to roll down her face. 

This startles Kylo, who had half turned to greet her with a smile; he rushes towards her, flustered and seeming to be at a total loss as to what he should do next. He shuts the door and stands in front of her for a moment before panic seems to set in. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Kylo asks in frantic concern, his hands hovering over her shoulders. “Do you need something? Did someone hurt you? What do I do?” 

The more he babbles, the more hysterical he becomes, which makes Rey let out a watery laugh. 

She wipes her tears with the edge of her sleeve, sniffling loudly in hopes to make her tears stop. “It’s nothing.”

Kylo bends over for a second only to crouch so he can meet her at eye level. “It’s not nothing.” He brushes the fresh tears that spill down her cheeks with gentle fingers. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“You’re here,” she blurts out, only for more tears to appear, followed by heaving sobs. “You’re really here,” she wails, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Kylo pulls her into a warm embrace, one hand rubbing her back while the other cradles the back of her head, his large thumb massaging her scalp in an attempt to comfort her. It works. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

“I thought you were at work or something.” It comes out muffled as Rey buries her face against his dark jumper.

“Not today.” Kylo hugs her tighter and eventually coaxes her over to sit on the couch.

Still hiding her face in his woolly sweater, she tries to change the subject and asks, “What are you making?” And right at that moment, her stomach makes a loud noise, much to her embarrassment. 

“Stock.”

The answer is so ridiculous and so absurd to her that it catches Rey completely off-guard. She lifts herself up, her hand grabbing for purchase against his chest, and stares at him. “Stock?” she repeats back at him. Her tears are nothing but sticky tracks on her face now, her eyes drying by the second as she gawks at him before pushing herself even higher—ignoring Kylo’s grunt as his chest takes more of her weight—before peering over the couch to look at her stove.

There are three large stock pots on the burners, with thick clusters of aromatic steam wafting from each pot. 

“Those aren’t mine,” Rey says, nudging her chin towards to the pots.

“They’re mine.” Kylo manages to prop himself up on the backs of his elbows. “It felt like a stock making day today.”

“Okay, but why? There’s boxed stuff at the supermarket for a reason, you know?” As the words leave her mouth, Rey knows how ridiculous this statement is. Compared to her own abilities (or lack thereof), Kylo’s experience and talent with food is worlds apart. Why wouldn’t he make his own? 

“But it’s weirdly satisfying making your own stock. Besides, I’m doing this for you. Soup is ridiculously easy to make, and if you use homemade stock then it’s just—” Kylo blows a kiss with his fingers, which only makes the situation seem weirder. 

She half expects more enthusiastic confessions of hidden culinary talents, like baking those fancy breads that are triple the price of a normal loaf, and settles back onto Kylo’s sturdy, comfortable chest. “Where did you learn this stuff? Your family?”

“Well, you know, there are all kinds of holovids and holocasts about cooking these days, and I decided to educate myself. It just feels natural for me to do all this.”

Kylo answers her smoothly, but with her head against his pectorals, Rey feels an odd twitch under her face. It’s only for a split second and normally, she wouldn’t pay attention to it, but it sticks out to her for some reason, and she finds herself filing the observation away in her mind.

“Maybe you were a cook in a previous life,” Rey jokingly suggests. 

There’s a hum before his fingers start to card through her hair. Her eyes begin to grow heavy as she feels sections of her hair being lifted over each other, his nails raking over her scalp whenever he pulls a new section. She’s still conscious, only her eyes are closed, but she feels like she’s having some kind of out of body experience. She’s wrapped in warmth, but the slight tug of hair sends pleasant chills down her spine as the stock bubbles softly in the background. She can’t see herself but Rey feels an intricate braid forming atop her head. Blearily, she asks with an exhale, “Did your mom teach you this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” His reply is soft and faint, and she wants to ask more about his family, but something in his voice warns her against doing so. 

She feels the press of his lips against the crown of her head, as if he’s thanking her for not forcing him to elaborate. 

When Rey feels the telltale tug at the ends of her hair before it’s being tucked into itself, she’s already resumed her peaceful half-doze. She’s on the precipice of sleep when she feels Kylo shift under her, and tightens her hold instinctively. 

“Where are you going?” she asks, voice slightly addled with sleepiness.

Kylo places his hand against her forehead and firmly kneads her lower back before giving a final squeeze. “I gotta go strain and cool the stock, and then I’ll make something for us to eat. It’ll be a while, so go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, don’t worry.”

Rey listens to him moving around the kitchen; the sound of his stock being slowly drained is weirdly comforting, but it does nothing to help her go to sleep. She’s more awake now, without him next to her, touching her; and she feels anxiety coming on in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time as an intrusive thought enters her mind and won’t leave.

She ignores the thick bubbles she hears, or that her hunger is growing by the second. She’s felt hunger pains before, a thousand times worse than this, but it's nothing compared to the discomfort of the dark turn her thoughts have taken. She tries to re-focus her senses on the scrumptious aroma that fills her living space, but all she can hear is her rangehood as her thoughts grow ever darker.

Rey stares at the back of her couch with heavy-lidded eyes as the dark cloud of her unwanted thought spins in her mind, and a question goes unanswered.

_If Kylo was making stock for her to use in the future, does that mean there is a possibility that he won’t be around for much longer? _

She shakes the thought away, trying to rationalise that the purpose of the stock is for it to be used in the future, but the thought still hangs heavy in her heart, despite her best efforts to ignore it. She breathes a sigh of relief when Kylo tells her that he’s staying the night since he doesn’t have work the next day, and curls herself against him. Kylo always has the uncanny ability of knowing exactly what she wants, or needs. She doesn’t have the mental capacity to question it, nor does she want to, and drifts asleep to the sound of his steady breathing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I binged a bunch of Bon Appetit videos and then started their podcast (foodcast) when I worked on this story so like yeah haha


	6. Chapter 6

He’s here again, visiting her dreams like so many nights before.

Death. 

This time, Rey is standing perfectly still with minimal visibility. She can’t see Death, but feels him close. There is an icy coldness seeping through her thin slip of a dress, hanging off her shoulders. Her heart hammers against her ribcage, waiting for whatever comes next. He usually drifts around her in circles, dancing just beyond her reach, and if she could move her arms she would be able to reach out and touch him. 

The wait could be eternal, yet Rey would still be on the edge of her metaphorical seat for when he finally decides to slither into her vision. 

Her heart jumps to her throat and a sharp gasp leaves her barely parted lips when a set of solid hands come to rest on her shoulders. Something covers his hands, leather gloves that are cold to the touch, but Rey can feel her skin warming underneath them. 

He doesn’t move for the longest time, and then his fingers start to spread before his palms inch downward to gently cup her biceps. She becomes aware of warmth against her back as Death appears behind her, almost pressing himself against her body. 

Rey swallows thickly, trying her best to turn her neck to see the elusive being, but she’s paralyzed. Death’s presence should send chills down Rey’s spine but her body is on fire instead. Her skin has pimpled and her heart is beating so fast and so loud, she wouldn’t be surprised if Death could hear it.

There’s a rustle behind her and she feels a very solid weight against the curve of her neck. It feels as though he’s resting his head on her, and nuzzling his cheek into her warm flesh. 

She can feel skin against skin, and she’s thankful that he came to her whole this time, and not in his skeletal form. Rey desperately yearns to touch him, but she can’t. 

Despite the warmth that flows through her, she can see that Death’s breath is cold—soft wisps of vapor dance in front of her face as he leans into her. 

With one hand still on her bicep, his other roams across her body. It slides across her chest, drifting close to her breasts where her nipples stand erect, aching to be touched, but he moves upwards to her neck instead. His hand is large, and Rey’s neck fits effortlessly between the web of his thumb and forefinger. 

Rey has trouble breathing as his fingers rest against her jugular. He’s gentle and doesn’t squeeze, and she can tell he means her no harm, but her chest feels like an inferno. Her shallow gasps of air are no help when he moves his hand again, his fingers now crawling up the curve of her chin to her mouth. He parts her lips easily and slips a digit inside and curls it against her tongue. Rey clamps her mouth around him and sucks, her tongue swirling and rubbing along the seams of his leather gloves. 

Despite not being able to move the rest of her body, Rey loves the sensation of his gloved finger in her mouth. Her eyes slip shut, not that she really notices; she’s too busy relishing the taste and texture of leather and the opportunity to move her tongue around a part of him. 

He presses his lips against the shell of her ear and they’re like ice against her burning skin. His kisses are tentative, as if he’s worried it will bring her dream to an end. 

Rey wants more of him on her. She wants his slow, icy kisses to cool her burning body. Or maybe she could melt his frozen lips with her blistering hot skin instead. She doesn’t know what she wants, but for now, she must content herself with greedily sucking on his finger. 

Her mind is thick with irrational need that snaps like a whip when he whispers against her:

_“Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”_

* * *

**“** _I promise_ **.” **

The words ring loudly in her ears when she wakes up. Staring blankly at the ceiling, her lips tingle as she slowly realises she was the one who uttered it. She mouths it repeatedly, trying to understand what her dreams are trying to tell her, and slowly turns to find Kylo, sound asleep next to her. 

It’s been a few days since she had come home to find Kylo making stock, his presence saving her brain from spiraling downwards. He’s been staying over more often, which has kept Rey’s insecurities at bay for the time being.

The sun has yet to rise and her room is bathed in dark blue light, but she can still clearly see his face. He looks so peaceful with his hair falling over his face with his lips slightly parted. She yearns to brush his hair aside and touch his face, but doesn’t for fear that it would wake him. Instead, she rolls onto her side and watches him sleep. 

It’s not until the room begins to brighten, as different tones of azure flood through her window that Kylo begins to rouse from his slumber. It’s slow, a single twitch of his brow is the first hint, followed by a frown forming on his lips as he wakes. He squeezes his eyes, as if trying to force himself back to sleep, but it’s too late for that. Eventually, he opens his eyes, lids still heavy with sleep. 

He stares at her with glassy eyes, not fully comprehending that Rey is wide awake and has been watching him. Clarity ebbs into his eyes and his frown deepens.

“How long have you been awake?” he asks, voice rough and gravelly. 

“Long enough to admire your face,” Rey whispers, as she gently brushes his hair out of his eyes with the back of her hand.

Kylo rests his eyes again, humming in contentment as Rey gently taps her finger against the moles that decorate his face. The left side of his nose, then the right, just under his lip, then his left cheekbone. He lets out a huff of air when she rubs the ones that fall above his right eyebrow, as though tickled by her touches. 

He swats her hand away from his face and takes a section of her hair, flicking it under her nose in revenge. “That’s enough of that.” Rey twitches her nose like a rabbit, shielding her face from any more attacks. 

Rey settles on her side and takes in Kylo’s appearance once more. Heat fans across her face when she recalls her dream and the specifics of what had transpired. Her eyes dart to his hands. He doesn’t have his gloves on at the moment, of course not, but she swears it’s his fault her dreams have taken a turn in that direction. How else would her mind conjure up such specific dream? Then again, even from the beginning, Rey hadn’t feared the spectre who has been haunting her dreams this month. 

Spurred by a sudden notion, Rey traces Kylo’s lips with her fingertip. 

It’s absurd and she can’t believe she’s even entertaining such a line of thought but it doesn’t stop her from nudging his bottom lip with her thumb. She wants to think that they’re similar to Death’s, but feels silly making such a comparison. Kylo is real and Death is only a dream.

Kylo doesn’t protest at her soft touches. He stays still, watching her with his dark eyes as she becomes bolder and rubs his lips between her thumb and the side of her finger. Rey wonders what he’s thinking as she analyses his mouth. 

Rey flicks her eyes above his head, checking again to reassure herself that he has no timer. It’s a habit she needs to break, but ever since Kylo made stock for her and the irrational thought of him leaving popped into her mind and wouldn’t let go, she’s found herself checking more frequently. 

As expected, there’s no timer. 

Rey has a tendency to self sabotage, usually in the form of becoming unresponsive to people around her. It’s saved her in the past from having to push people away. She doesn’t think she’s done such a thing with Kylo, since he’s the first person in a long time she’s genuinely cared about and wants to share things with, but it doesn’t erase her worry that maybe she’s done it to him without realizing it. 

“I want to show you something,” Rey says, withdrawing her hand and sitting up. She avoids his gaze and starts to get dressed in something warm. Kylo silently follows suit, throwing on a shirt and pants. 

In a moment of semi-irrational desperation, Rey drags Kylo to her favorite spot in all of Coruscant. She’s held out from divulging the details of her past to him, and she wonders if it might become a factor that could make Kylo feel pushed away. There is no evidence to suggest that Kylo has any intention of leaving, but she needs to do this for herself. 

Coruscant is known for its high rise buildings, which makes it hard for residents to experience an unobstructed sunset. Rey’s and Kylo’s apartment building is unique in that their rooftop gives them the best view of the east, bestowing breathtaking views to anyone who’s lucky enough to be there.

Before she met Kylo, Rey visited the rooftops often. Ironically, it was the only place that distracted her from her intense loneliness; she could get lost in the views, with nothing but the distant sound of car engines and the busy city below. 

No one really goes up there this early except for her, so it comes as no surprise to find it empty when she pushes the rooftop door open, with Kylo following close behind. The sun is still waking up, the barest trace of yellow now gracing the skies as they sit on a bench that overlooks the city. 

“This place is beautiful,” Kylo comments as he looks around. “You come here often?”

“I used to.”

“What changed?” Kylo is looking out at the dark buildings that dot the distant horizon and doesn’t seem aware that Rey is watching him.

“You did.” 

Kylo turns and looks sharply at her. “I did?” 

“I’m not as alone as I used to be, because of you. And I want you to know me, really know me.” 

Her lips form a tight smile as Rey settles against the back of the bench and braces herself for what’s to come. “My last name isn’t actually Niima. I don’t remember what it really is, they told me ages ago, but I didn’t want it. Not after what my parents did to me.” 

“What happened?” Kylo asks softly, his hand resting over hers in reassurance.

“They left me. Abandoned me on the streets, in some box apparently.” Rey lets out a self deprecating laugh. “Who does that? I wasn’t even a baby. I was five! It took them five years to realise they had made a mistake with me!” Her voice is harder now—angrier. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel this way about her parents in a long time, if ever. Before now, she had accepted what her life was and refused to think too much about her parent’s motives. “They just tossed me aside! Like I was garbage!” She makes a motion with her hands before gripping the edge of the bench. She needs to calm down a bit before she goes on. 

“You’re not garbage,” Kylo says and she believes that he believes it, even if she knows better. He fixes his gaze on her, the sincerity in his eyes almost convinces her that she hasn’t been a shitty human for the past twenty years, that ignoring the timers as opposed to helping people didn’t ruin her life.

She lets out a weak laugh. “One of my foster mothers thought the same. Or at least, she did before she died.” Rey presses her lips together to stop the tingling of her nose and the prickling of tears. “Because I was an orphan, I got bumped around the system for a while. I’m originally from Jakku City and the options aren’t the greatest there. Out of the four families I’ve been with, Maz was the best. She—” Rey has to clench her teeth to stop her tears from falling. “Maz was the only real mother and parent I’ve ever known, and she’s gone. And I miss her so much.”

Rey suddenly finds herself wrapped in a tight embrace. Kylo’s hands are holding the back of her head against his chest as he presses kisses into her hair. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not though,” Rey says, reluctantly pushing herself from him. “I knew something was going to happen and I didn’t do anything!”

Kylo grabs her shoulders and forces her to look at him. “How? How could you know that?” 

“I-I—” Like all those years ago as a child, the words refuse to leave her mouth.

All her childhood fears and stress come rushing back. She thought she had buried it all, accepted herself for who she was, but evidently not. 

She can’t tell him that she can see how long people have to live, and that the main reason for her initial attraction to him was that she couldn’t see his life timer. 

_You only liked me because you couldn’t see when I died? So you’re saying if I did have one of your ‘life timers’, you would’ve ignored me? That’s so selfish._

Rey can hear it play out in her head as she tries to divert her eyes from him. His eyes, as beautiful as they are with specks of brown and gold, pierce her soul. She wants to look at them but the moment she makes eye contact, she’s a goner. She cannot divulge her secret. She hasn’t told anyone in her life and people already judge her for being peculiar. 

“She had a migraine and I should have told her to get it checked out,” Rey eventually says, trying her best to keep her voice steady. “She had an aneurysm and I took too long to call the paramedics.” 

It was a lie.

She didn’t take too long to call the paramedics because she didn’t know the number or couldn’t find the phone, but because she’d been in shock and had become distracted by the true meaning of the timers. It took her five minutes to get a grip and call for help, but by that time, it was too late. 

The foster care system had provided counselling, but it didn’t help; Rey was too busy staring at the counsellor’s own life timer to pay attention to what they were saying about grief and loss. 

She wasn’t normal, and she understood why.

_Maybe that was why her parents left her._

Kylo’s gentle voice breaks through her dark thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“You don’t know that!” she snarls. “She had trouble speaking days before. Her walking got worse! She mentioned her face felt numb and I didn’t do anything!”

“How old were you?”

Rey is taken aback by his question. “Twelve.”

“How is a twelve year old supposed to know what to do? Rey,” Kylo starts, cupping her face. “you were just a child.”

“I should have done something,” she wails. Looking at Kylo’s face, she can’t hold back the tears anymore. They stream down her face as her throat constricts. “I was a garbage child. No wonder everyone wants to leave me!”

“I don’t.”

“You do! You will! Everyone always does!!” 

“I won’t,” Kylo repeats, firmer this time. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” she says immediately. “Please don’t.” It comes out as a whimper.

“Then I’ll never leave you.” 

She lets out a waterlogged laugh full of condescension. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Kylo pulls her close and presses their foreheads together. “For as long as I’m here, I’ll never leave you.”

He seems serious but his choice of words makes Rey want to check his counter, but she can’t move her head; he has her in an iron grip. 

“Please believe me,” he whispers as his eyes soften. “You want to. I can feel it. Please, just let yourself. It’ll be okay.”

His breath tickles her face, reminding her that he is real. He’s been with her over a month, which is a month more than she ever expected. A month of bliss. Maybe it will be okay.

“Give me time to convince you.”

Time is all they have. It’s the only thing they have. “Okay,” Rey says weakly. 

He kisses her forehead then meets her lips, dragging it out, slow and steady. Rey’s mouth automatically parts for his tongue. He tastes like lazy weekends together where they do nothing but lounge around, naked and tangled in each other’s bodies. He tastes like what she wants in her life and she lunges forward, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him tight. 

She eventually unwinds herself from him, but keeps him close, her side pressed against his chest as he puts his arm around her. She needs to feel him nearby, if not against her. Her touch-starved life demands it. 

With more yellow spreading across the skies, Rey starts to feel at peace. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over her curse and the baggage that has come with it, but she’s going to try. With Kylo, Rey feels like she can try anything. 

He’s absentmindedly playing with her hair when the first rays of sun filter through the buildings. “You would be a good doctor,” he comments. “You certainly care about people, despite what you say,” he says loudly when she tries to protest. 

“Some people would say doctors who care too much are bad doctors. They can’t save everyone,” she mumbled sulkily.

“I prefer one that cares too much than one who doesn’t care enough.” He rests his cheek against the top of her head. “It’s so nice here. Thank you for showing me.”

They sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company as the sun rises higher in the sky. As Kylo hums gently to himself, Rey repeats his words in her head. She’s reminded of Dr. Kalonia’s offer, and with it, her daydream of Kylo and herself together if she were to accept. After all that’s just happened, she finds herself seriously considering the idea for the first time. 

_Maybe it doesn’t have to be a fantasy for her, after all._

“I love you.” Rey barely catches what he’s mumbled into her hair, and snuggles deeper into his arms, turning to bury her face into his shirt. 

“Same,” Rey murmurs, embarrassed and grateful that his shirt muffled her words but he squeezes her tightly and she hears him exhale, which can only mean he heard her loud and clear. 

The sun has made its way high into the sky when they eventually pull apart. The sun’s glare hits her eyes when she sits upright and she quickly shields herself from the harsh light. Squinting, she’s about to suggest to go back inside when she sees a butterfly from the corner of her eye, batting its wings and flying towards Kylo. It lands on his shoulder. 

Rey opens her mouth to mention it when a gasp catches in her throat.

With her hand hovering over her eyebrows, all she can see is the bottom section of his face. 

She frowns and her brows gather in the centre as she tilts her head to one side. _This view is familiar. Almost like…_

Rey removes her hand to reveal Kylo’s face, who looks at her questioningly. As her eyes move up his face—from the curve of his soft chin to his succulent lips, up to his large nose and past eyes that crinkle at the edges for her—she notices something above his head that wasn’t there before.

_07:20:45:30_

She stares dumbly at the timer, unable to comprehend what she’s seeing.

_07:20:44:55_

It’s counting down. 

Her throat closes. She can’t breathe. Kylo’s eyes widen with worry but she doesn’t see him anymore.

All she can see is the timer.

_07:20:43:35_

What a cruel joke for fate to play on her, to make her actually believe she had a chance at happiness.

* * *

Kylo firmly grasps Rey’s hand as he leads her back to her apartment. She hasn’t uttered a single word since the sun had risen. Her eyes are glassy and her mind is miles away. 

He wants to scream. He wants to curse Snoke for rejecting his request. He wants to rip the world apart. But what he wants most of all is to take Rey and hide forever from the realms of the living and the dead.

But he can’t.

He has no choice but to see this through.

He knows everything about Rey. He’d had to study her life before he began his assignment. It was the best way to implement his plan. Grow close to his target and see what happens when his timer runs out. 

He’s gotten what he originally wanted. He’d successfully executed his plan so Rey’s reactions would be genuine. She’d willingly told him about her past, all while keeping her ability to see people’s life timers to herself. She’d seen his life timer appear suddenly and had not attempted to say anything.

So far, she’s passed the prerequisites for being a Grim Reaper.

Now, the real test starts, the one he hadn’t anticipated, and the one he now dreads the most—the beginning of the end of them. For surely, she will never forgive him for what he’s done.

One more week and this farce will be over, but his ordeal will have only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬
> 
> (fun fact: while butterflies symbolise transformation/rebirth, they are also attracted to [decaying flesh/corpses](http://mentalfloss.com/article/63521/7-disgusting-things-butterflies-eat). thus, the reason why it lands on Kylo while Rey is the one who sees it 😬)


	7. Chapter 7

Six days have passed, and less than two remain.

Kylo stands over Rey’s sleeping body, clad in his reaper uniform with his scythe folded into a small cylinder that hangs off his belt. 

He’s taking a break from tonight’s Cleaving at the moment. He knows he shouldn’t be here, but he needed to see Rey’s face to remind himself why he’s doing all of this; he won’t be able to get through the night without it. As much as he wants to crawl into bed and curl up against Rey, he’s been slacking off on his reaping duties for the past six days. He needs to meet his quota before he returns to the Reaper Realm and submits his report. He’s delayed it for as long as possible, staying with Rey every night instead of leaving for his ‘job’, and tonight is the last chance he’ll have to get his Cleavings done. The remaining hours on his timer are precious, and he doesn’t want to waste a minute that could be better spent with Rey. He just hopes he’ll be able to stick around long enough to explain himself after it eventually runs out.

Kneeling beside her bed, he rests his head against his bent knee and watches Rey’s peaceful face, lost in thoughts of the past week. He’d made up a story about needing to take vacation time in order to spend as much time with her as possible, and she didn’t question it; that he knows why she didn’t question it is something that haunts him. She’s done well, Kylo thinks, considering the extreme stress she’s going through. She bounced back after the first day, returning to her usual demeanor, with only a slight shift in her mannerisms to hint that something might have changed. 

They’ve always been physically affectionate with each other, but she’s been touching him even more frequently. Nothing overtly sexual, but smaller things like standing close to him so their shoulders touch, no matter where they are or what they’re doing; and resting her head in his lap whenever they’re watching something on TV. The level of public affection, which Rey had always said she found uncomfortable, has also increased; linking their arms or hands at every possible opportunity, she now presses multiple kisses against his lips when they’re having dinner outside or out for an evening stroll, instead of just a quick peck on the cheek here and there when no one is around. He loves these moments, though the guilt he also feels is overwhelming.

Kylo responds to her in a similar manner. He laces his fingers with hers whenever they’re out shopping together, or pulls her close and keeps his hand on her lower back. He doesn’t want to let her go, and with each passing day his craving for the feel of her body pressed against his grows ever more intense. They’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping naked together, even when they have no intention of having sex. Cocooned in heavy blankets, Kylo tucks Rey’s head under his arm and plays with her hair as they drift to sleep together. He wants—needs—to feel her skin on him as much as possible.

He needs to snap out of these thoughts and get back to Cleaving or Hux will be unbearable when he returns to the Reaper Realm. 

Bending over, Kylo presses a ghostly kiss on Rey’s cheek and forces himself to leave before he says _fuck it_ and slides in bed with her. He’s taking out his scythe when she groans in her sleep, pulling the covers closer to her face and hugging them. She rolls onto her stomach, but keeps the side of her face pressed into her pillow. There’s a faint blush blooming on her cheeks, along with a freshly moistened line along her eyelashes. She moans again and changes position, turning her head so she faces away from him. 

He wonders what she’s dreaming about, looking like a mixture of pleasure and sadness. It’s most likely about him, and as much as his heart throbs at the idea of Rey having dreams about him, he loathes himself whenever he thinks about her shedding tears because of him—even if it’s only in a dream.

Straightening himself and adjusting his uniform, Kylo spies himself in the mirror and sees the numbers above his head reflecting back at him and is filled with self-hatred for what he is putting her through. 

_1:21:14:36_

There’s going to be a lot more crying, and likely screaming, when his timer runs out.

It doesn’t help that his timer ends on her birthday, either.

_God, I’m _such_ a fucking asshole_, he thinks as he launches himself out of her window, brandishing his scythe and channeling his anger towards the unsuspecting souls below.  
  


* * *

There are thirty-eight hours left and Rey is stuck at work. She’s wasting valuable time with Kylo while her boss prattles on about her plans for Hanna City, and it takes all of her energy not to snap. She feels desperate and helpless and hates it. And even though she knows she can’t do anything to change what’s happening, she still detests herself for not trying.

Rey is staring at the clock on the wall when Dr. Kalonia finally stops chatting. Rey is so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice it immediately, but she turns her head to find the doctor staring at her with concern.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” Dr. Kalonia says, effectively distracting Rey from burning holes into the clock. 

Rey’s stomach sinks, not sure what to think. “For what?”

“Well, it’s your birthday tomorrow, and I usually try to get a small cake or something, but it slipped my mind this year. And since today’s my last day before I go to Hanna City, I won’t be able to do anything until I get back.” 

“It’s fine,” Rey says, and she means it. She’s never cared for her birthday and tries not to think of it at all, though she did appreciate the small treats Dr. Kalonia had bought for her every year. 

But now that it’s been brought to her attention, Rey realises her birthday will be the last day she’ll have with Kylo before he dies. She wants to scream at how unfair the world is, throw a tantrum and stamp her feet like a child, but she remains motionless. Nothing on her face can give her real feelings away. 

She has a brief moment of regret that this would have been her first chance at experiencing a real birthday, like the ones she’s seen people celebrating all her life. She would’ve liked to go somewhere, explore new and unknown places with Kylo, and she is filled with grief and rage that she never will. 

She has no idea how he will die, and she’s tried not to think about it too much. As far as Rey can tell, Kylo is in perfect health, so she’s planning to keep them both locked in her apartment during his final hours. All she wants to do now is go home and wrap herself around him and never let him go; she doesn’t even want to sleep—anything to be with him as much as possible before he’s gone. 

* * *

_0:9:05:29_

Rey fucked up. She fucked up so badly and she’s going to pay the price for it.

She had planned to stay awake as long as possible in order to spend more time with Kylo, but she’d been completely drained from work and stress. She must’ve passed out early the night before, exhaustion catching up with her, and slept through her usual morning alarm. It’s already well into the afternoon when she awakes with a shout. 

She finds Kylo lounging on the couch with a book in hand, completely relaxed and unaware that he’s going to die soon. He’s wearing a light grey shirt as opposed to his usual dark colors, and the change makes Rey’s stomach coil traitorously. Now is not the time to be considering such things but why does he have to look so good?

The way he turns to her when he realises she’s standing at the doorway—tilting his head back so his column of flesh is exposed with muscles running taut down his neck—makes her wonder if he’s doing this on purpose. She’s been so busy worrying about him and trying to be with him that she might have neglected certain needs and desires; both her own and his.

Slowly, like a cat on a sunny afternoon, Kylo unfolds his legs, rises to his feet, and saunters over to her, his eyes never leaving her, which makes her press her legs closer together. _Stop, stop, stop, don’t think about it, don’t_—

Rey squeezes her eyes shut and flinches when he’s less than a metre away, not sure why she’s being bashful all of the sudden. 

“Happy birthday,” she hears him whisper, his breath hot against her face. “What would you like to do first?”

“First?” she asks, slowly opening her eyes. 

After a quick peck on her lips, Kylo pulls back and moves to the kitchen. “We can do anything, it’s your birthday after all. I have dinner planned for us—I hope you don’t mind staying in—and I’ve got another trashy show lined up since we’ve finished _The Bachelorette_.” Kylo busies himself preparing a cheese toastie as Rey continues to stare at him. “I figured you didn’t want to do anything big for your birthday since you didn’t tell me about it.”

Rey manages to find her voice and asks, “How?”

“The other night when we were at a bar and you got carded. I saw your date of birth by chance.” 

It’s not like Rey was trying to hide her birthday, but she can’t help feeling guilt sink in knowing Kylo had to find out like that. It’s clear he’s more enthusiastic about her birthday than she’s ever been. 

Balancing a plate on her knees, Rey settles against Kylo as they watch some absurd show. She doesn’t pay attention to the title or what plays out on the screen, she’s too busy being hyper aware of every movement Kylo makes; the way his chest rises and falls against her back, spreading warmth all through her body as he does so; how he absentmindedly flicks his thumb with his index finger; the quick huffs of air from his nostrils as he tries to stifle a laugh when something particularly ridiculous happens in the show. She knows she’ll cling to her memories of these simple moments forever.

Rey’s eyes dart to the clock on the wall every so often, her heart rate speeding up when she realises an hour has passed and she’s done nothing. Exhaustion and fear had frozen her, had stopped her from attempting to prevent Kylo’s inevitable death, but she is determined that the memory of their last day together will not feel like a wasted opportunity. 

They’re in the middle of the episode when Rey abruptly turns to face Kylo, careful not to knock over her plate, and slaps his chest. It tightens under her hand and she has to force herself away from the fact. 

“Teach me,” she says, not moving her hand. “Teach me how to make whatever you are planning to make for dinner. Please,” she adds as Kylo begins to protest.

He concedes and starts taking out the ingredients needed. As he does so, Rey hangs back on the couch, watching him as she thinks about what it will be like when he’s gone. She thinks it might help her feel like Kylo is always with her if she learns to make his food. 

He’d planned to make gnocchi tonight and they’re at the stage where the egg is added. Before Rey can reach for one, Kylo steps close to her and breaks the egg with one hand, dropping a perfectly intact egg into the well she’s made in the floury potato dough. He discards the shell and wraps his arms around her midsection as he rests his chin on her shoulder, careful not to apply too much pressure—it’s a comfortable, reassuring weight. 

“Now, start to draw the edges into the middle, then work it gently with your hands,” he whispers into her ear. Rey shivers from the way the sound of his voice reverberates down her spine.

Distracted, she makes a mess and Kylo unwraps his arms from her waist to assist. His large, warm hands encompass her own as he guides her through the motions of forming the dough. Clusters of dried flour and potato stick to their hands, sliding roughly over each other as they begin to shape the dough for cutting. 

Her hands still, the middle of her back collapsing with her shoulders held taut, and her head hangs low as a familiar thought throbs in her mind: _She’ll never have this again._ She wishes she’d asked Kylo to teach her to cook sooner, instead of just watching him like the greedy, useless person she is. 

Her breathing becomes shallow, her mind sharpening and focusing on Kylo’s death once more. 

Kylo mistakes her lack of movement for something else, taking her jaw and guiding her face to meet his. His tongue slips past her lips without protest as he moves his hand to her chin, smearing flour across her face. He makes her forget her worries, if only for a moment.

“We need to wash our hands,” he murmurs, and leads her to the sink. He lathers soap over their hands, spending more time than necessary on hers. There’s something erotic about the way his skin slides over hers, and a thrill shoots to the base of her stomach. 

He flicks his hands of water and dries them, and it looks like that’s the end of it, but Rey won’t let that happen. She spies his pair of black leather gloves atop the kitchen bench and instantly remembers her dream—the one with Death. Or more specifically, the things Death almost does to her.

“Put them on,” she says, eyes not leaving the leather gloves. She feels disgusting and loathes herself for her intent, but it doesn’t stop her cunt from clenching in anticipation.

Kylo obliges, carefully slipping them on but turning his back before his hands are properly covered, and Rey almost rises to her toes in an attempt to peer over his shoulder. He’s purposely hiding them from view. 

He looks ridiculous when he turns around. The gloves are out of place with his loose shirt and sweatpants, but it doesn’t bother Rey. She needs to feel the soft material against her, the same way Death handled her in her dream. 

Rey stands perfectly still with her jaw set, waiting for what he’ll do. He bears down on her with emotionless eyes, tilting her head to the side to allow access to her neck.

“What do you want me to do, Rey?” he asks, voice so low that she can barely hear him.

Swallowing thickly, she lets out a shaky breath. “I want your hands on me.”

There’s a gentle nip to her smooth skin. “Where?”

Rey wants to growl in frustration but she refuses to be a child about this. “Neck,” she manages. “With the other sliding down my stomach.”

He does as he’s told without complaint. “Like this?” he asks, his palm spanning across her jugular as his other hand snakes down her flat, shirt covered stomach. 

“Yes,” she wheezes. “Lower.”

“Like this?” he asks again, dipping past the waistband of her cotton shorts and underwear. His hand cups her mound and applies a slight pressure. “Is this what you want?” 

“Please.” 

Rey almost cries when she feels the cold, thick leather rub against her folds, but keeps herself together. The only thing that gives her away are her flushed cheeks and her shaky breath. 

He feels so thick when he enters her, the gloves adding extra layers that make a world of difference. She shivers as his finger travels deeper until his digit is completely sheathed and his fingers fan out against the inside of her thighs. 

There’s no warmth, no comfort of flesh, and Rey clenches around him. It feels slightly detached but when he draws his fingers out and slides them in again, more forcibly, her breath hitches as her mouth hangs open. His face is buried against her neck, lazily sucking the area where her neck meets her shoulder, and remains there as he picks up his pace. 

Rey squirms when he adds another finger. She hikes up her leg and tries to hook it around his hips, but she can’t; her foot keeps slipping and he doesn’t move to help her. He just keeps on sucking at her neck as he twists his fingers inside of her, massaging her with soft leather, even when her fingers weakly claw his back. 

Her apartment is completely silent save for the wet sounds coming from between her legs, and her soft gasps. Kylo doesn’t make a noise, which only serves to frustrate Rey. She bites down on her lip and tries to keep her moans to a minimum. 

But then he removes his fingers and Rey lets out a choked sound. She clenches around nothing and mourns the loss. 

Before she can protest, Kylo lifts her up and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and tugs her shorts and underwear down her thighs, leaving a trail of her slick as he does so. As he holds her legs together, pressed against him, he licks her exposed bottom while his fingers play at her exposed folds.

Rey can’t do anything but bunch his shirt in her hands, resisting the urge to squirm at the cold air hitting her backside. She feels his blunt fingers running up and down her slit, careful to press the flat of his finger against her entrance but not inside. Heat spreads across her body as she’s helplessly played with.

He stops before her couch and gently lowers her to the ground, going the extra mile to kneel and lick a single stripe up her cunt as he rises to his feet. He pulls his shirt over his head and yanks down his pants, his cock bouncing proudly against the tuft of hair that decorates his stomach. 

“How would you like it?” His voice is devoid of emotion and Rey would believe his cold facade if his burning eyes didn’t give him away. 

“Hard,” she says, the single word coming out strangled. “Rough. Use me. Treat me like—”

His hand, about to brush her cheek, falters when she voices her desire. The word ‘garbage’ hangs between them, unspoken but understood. “Are you sure?” he whispers sharply as his knuckles ghost her cheekbone.

“Yes.” It’s easier to channel her rage and anger through pain than to be suffocated by the guilt of feeling pleasure at a time like this.

Kylo breaks away from her and falls onto the couch, legs parted. He points to his crotch and commands with dispassionate voice, “Then suck.”

She drops to her knees and takes his girth into her hands, sliding them up and down while watching his face. He is clenching his jaw, probably putting all his energy into this act. _Good_, she thinks. This is exactly what she wants. 

Rey would be lying if she didn’t feel triumphant at the labored breathing she hears when she swallows him. She doesn’t work her way down his length, but pushes him down her throat immediately. Tears bead in her eyes and moisten her lashes, as her throat burns around his bulbous head. 

“Rey,” she hears from above. The dispassionate tone is gone from his voice, he sounds lost, as though he doesn’t fully understand what is happening, and she doesn’t want him to; not right now. She grabs the insides of his thighs and sinks her thumbs into his sensitive flesh as she fucks him mercilessly with her mouth.

He yelps and thrusts deeper into her throat. _Yes, this is what she wanted_. 

“More,” she hears Kylo growl and her thighs start to burn when she pushes forward on her knees in an attempt to slide more of his length down her throat. She tries to pull him closer and digs her thumbs into his thighs, which garners the rough fucking she needs—even when tears roll down her cheeks and the haze of suffocation starts to affect her. 

Rey feels the rough seam line of Kylo’s gloves rub up from behind her ear to her scalp, gathering hair as he does, and she thinks _finally_, only to have her head yanked back. She almost chokes at the sweet relief of air through her nostrils, and doesn’t realise Kylo has pulled her up until she finds herself straddling his waist. 

She blearily looks down at him and sniffles. He sits up and kisses the tears from her face, being more gentle than she currently cares for. She opens her mouth to protest but eats her words when he spins her around and forces her legs open with his knees, impaling her on his cock before she knows what’s happening. 

Kylo shuffles forward so they hang off the edge of the couch, and rips her shirt apart like it’s nothing. The harsh sound of the fabric tearing mixes with a brief waterlogged whimper, before Rey descends into a fit of moans. He roughly grabs her breasts, painfully pinching her stone-hard nipples, while he pistons into her with unrelenting accuracy. Each sharp snap of his hips yanks a cry from her. 

But she loves this. She needs this, and she feels herself growing wetter the more she’s manhandled. 

“Is this what you want?” he grunts against her back, teeth gnawing at her spine. 

“Yes,” she manages between gasps.

“Good,” he says, separating his hands so one goes north to her neck while the other goes south to rub his fingers into her sensitive flesh. He goes one step further and spreads his fingers, parting her labia so he can meet her clit directly. 

He rubs her mercilessly as her fingernails sink into his thighs, leaving crescent moons in his flesh as she tries to steady herself. His hand that was originally resting on her neck creeps upwards, and two of his fingers slip into her open mouth.

His fingers explore her mouth like Death did in her dream, and she responds appropriately. Her tongue curls around them, teeth bumping against the soft leather. Knowing his skin is shielded from her, Rey clamps her mouth around him, gently grinding her teeth into the black leather glove.

Her legs are spread wide and his hands are all over her as he continues fucking ruthlessly into her eager hole. There’s nothing to grab onto but herself, so she squeezes her breasts, palming them as Kylo had done earlier, but it’s not the same. _It’ll never be the same, _she thinks. 

Suddenly, he stops and pulls his fingers from her mouth. “What?” Rey asks with a gasp, trying to twist around to face him, but his arm snakes around her ribcage, holding her in place as he circles her clit without pause. 

Her hands paw at his forearms as she desperately tries to move her hips, but it’s useless. He doesn’t let go even when the pressure becomes too much and she starts to scream. Her body is tense as she cums, and it seems like hours pass before her limbs stop twitching and she slumps, feeling too weak to do anything. 

When Kylo is satisfied by her slumped body, he carefully lifts her from his lap and lowers her to the carpet, positioning her so she’s all fours. 

Rey is a mess, barely able to stay upright, and she slouches against the floor, mumbling “Yes” repeatedly when Kylo enters her again. Her body is tingling, both energised and exhausted, and it helps when Kylo cards his fingers through her hair and clenches, pulling with enough force that she’s able to stop herself from drooling into the carpet. The sting is what she needs in order to focus on holding herself up as he furiously pounds into her.

Her toes curl at his animalistic grunts and the feel of his weighted sack slapping against her. Her knees are going to be red tomorrow and if Kylo’s firm grip is anything to go by, her hips aren’t spared either. 

But her elbows are starting to bend from the effort and she’s about to fall face first into the carpet again, so she blindly swings an arm behind her. Kylo grabs it and pulls her up, her stomach stretching and their bodies changing angles so it feels like he’s fucking his way up to her throat.

Rey is able to rotate her wrist and wrap her fingers around Kylo’s arm, her nails clawing deep into his skin. She hears a sharp intake of air and she’s falling forwards again. She’s definitely broken his skin and drawn blood but if anything, Kylo’s grip only tightens. 

She’s starting to lose feeling in her hand when Kylo thrusts at a certain angle and she is blinded by another orgasm. Rey lets out a long whine that grows uneven with every snap of his hips, his pace becoming hurried until he presses into her, his hips flush against her smooth ass, so deeply that she feels like she’ll split apart.

Her synapses feel like they’re firing at twice their normal speed. Her mind is buzzing, but her body is exhausted beyond comprehension. Kylo loosens his hold on her waist and she falls against the carpet, her chest rises and falls unevenly as he carefully pulls out of her. His thick, heavy cum bubbles from her entrance and pools down her thighs and she can’t find it in her to care. 

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Kylo asks. His voice is low and gentle and Rey can’t help but growl sleepily.

“Tomorrow,” she mumbles, not realising what she’s said, and welcomes the heavy feeling of sleep.

Drifting in and out of slumber, Rey hears Kylo stumble to the bathroom at one point, and is soon aware of a warm, damp towel cleaning her off. Through the heavy fog of looming sleep, she feels Kylo remove her tattered shirt and dresses her in a clean set of pajamas, pressing kisses against her crown as he lays her in her favorite armchair before she drifts off for good.

* * *

From behind the kitchen island, Kylo watches Rey curled up, asleep in her armchair. He’s absentmindedly cutting and shaping the gnocchi—Rey is the only thing on his mind. 

He feels awful for using his reaper abilities to put her to sleep. He really should wake her up. He knows it’s what she would want, but he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to cope. If he woke her up then he wouldn’t be able to escape the pain in her eyes, knowing he’s the reason for her heartache. It’s a cowardly move and he isn’t proud of it—he fucking despises himself for it—but if it means he’s able to see Rey’s face, peaceful and smooth and free from worry, then so be it. 

He knows she’s exhausted, not only from the vigorous sex they just had, but also from the past week’s events. The least he can do is grant her a moment's peace before everything goes to shit—or so he tells himself to escape the reality of his own selfishness.

Kylo starts to prepare a sauce for the gnocchi, and his thighs tense as he moves around the stove. He doubts she realises how hard she had dug her fingers into him, but angry red marks now decorate the skin of his inner thighs, with matching ones that wrap around his wrist. He rubs at the nail marks she’s left behind, rubs harder than needed, causing his skin to flare and pain to bloom. Even though he’s immortal, this body is a perfect replica of a mortal one. He is grateful for this pain, and he relishes it; it comforts him to know that Rey was the one to mark him this way, and he hopes the marks never fade. But he deserves worse, so much worse for all that he’s done, and he knows that the pain he feels now will be nothing compared to the punishment yet to come.

* * *

She doesn’t know how long she’d slept but before she knows it, Kylo is gently shaking her awake with a steaming bowl of gnocchi. It takes her a few moments to blink herself awake and take the bowl, and he picks her up and moves them onto the couch. 

Kylo puts on a movie as Rey takes her first bite and immediately slumps against him. The potato balls melt in her mouth and fill her stomach until she licks her bowl clean. 

She snuggles against him, tucking her legs under her so she curves against Kylo’s warm body. The quick nap and hearty meal is just what she needed to stay alert. Her eyes flick to the clock, noting that there’s still a few hours left with Kylo. Rey wants to stay awake and be with him for all of his final moments. She needs to see how it’ll happen, as masochistic as it sounds. 

But by the time the credits roll, her eyes are heavy again. She fights to stay awake, but her body has other ideas. She lets out a noise of protest when Kylo lifts her and carries her into the bedroom. But soon her frustration vanishes as a wave of contentment washes over her. She’s barely conscious as he gently lowers her body to the soft mattress and tucks himself in with her. 

“Happy birthday,” Kylo whispers as he wraps his arms around her, and Rey sleepily smiles in response. 

Any intention of staying awake is long gone as Rey is dragged deeper into her slumber, and she misses the patient, yet slightly despairing look on Kylo’s face as he gazes at her while she sleeps.

* * *

Rey is dancing; it’s the first time she’s done this in her dreams, spinning in circles with Death’s gloved hand guiding her; she twists and turns, never stopping until Death grabs her by the shoulders and forces her to be still. 

Waiting for her head to stop spinning, Rey focuses on his face and his parted lips. She leans forward, rocking back on the balls of her feet and then onto her toes, and kisses Death. 

His lips are surprisingly soft as she changes her angle and kisses him greedily. His hands have dropped to his sides now, allowing Rey to do as she pleases.

As she slips her tongue past his lips and tastes something familiar, her hands glide up his arms, relishing the feel of his strong muscles under her palms. 

Her hands creep higher and higher, thumbs brushing against his jaw. She feels bumps of moles under her fingers, and it feels familiar. 

Before Death changes his mind, Rey’s fingers catch the edge of his hood and pull it back.

Rey lets out a triumphant cry that dies in her throat when her eyes focus on a familiar smattering of moles, a large nose, and a set of lips she knows all too well. She takes a step back, heart burning a hole in her chest as her fingers tingle and become numb at once. 

Death slowly opens his eyes and she’s met with the same ones she’s fallen asleep watching numerous times over the past month or so. 

“Kylo?” she whimpers weakly.

As if time has slowed to a crawl, the being she once thought was Death opens his mouth and the same words fall from his lips.

_“Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”_

* * *

Rey’s eyes snap open and are immediately met with Kylo’s. Her throat is unbearably tight; she’s too afraid to move for fear it’s all a dream.

“Rey.” Her name falls on deaf ears as she musters the courage to look at the space above Kylo’s head.

_00:00:00:00_

Her eyes dart back to his own that blink back at her. She lays a hand on his cheek—it’s warm. Kylo is very much alive.

She looks back at the timer then to Kylo once more. Confusion doesn’t begin to describe what she’s feeling.

Weeks of memories come rushing through her head and everything falls into place. Their faces match, right down to the moles on their face. They’re the same height and build, and they feel the same against her. Even their gloves are identical.

She’s been dancing with Death and is about to pay the price. 

Maybe it was _her_ timer that was ticking down this whole time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading! I wanna give a heads up that from here on out is where the warnings become applicable. I'll highlight which ones are relevant at the beginning of the chapters. Some may be minor and it may be an over-tag but it's still there so please be aware. Don't worry, this fic is 100% HEA but there's still a ways to go. Thank you.
> 
> TW: Domestic Violence, Violence/Gore

_He’s alive._

She should be relieved beyond belief as her mind begins to make sense of what is happening. Now wide awake, a fog she didn’t notice before is gone now, and one fact shines clear as day in her mind: Kylo Ren is not who he said he was.

“You.” Rey barely recognises her own voice; everything feels strange and foreign now. “Who are you? What are you?”

Rey’s world is crumbling to pieces, yet Kylo just lies there with his head propped up against his hand and answers smoothly, “I’m a Grim Reaper.”

His words send Rey tumbling off the bed to the floor with sheets tangling around her ankles. “You’re here to kill me,” she accuses, struggling to free her legs and get up. 

“No!” Kylo quickly answers. He swings his legs over the mattress and stays on his side, putting the bed between them. “I’m not here to kill you. I would...I would never. I’m a Grim Reaper, but I’m not here to collect your soul.” He seems unable to speak further, and there’s panic in his eyes as he holds his hands up, palms facing Rey, as if he’s hoping it will calm her down.

It doesn’t. If anything, Rey becomes even more incensed the more he tries, and fails, to explain himself. “Why the fuck are you here then?” she shrieks. “Is this some kind of game to you?” She knows her life has been depressing and certainly hasn’t been lived to its fullest, but this is a very particular kind of cruel. 

Suddenly, a horrifying thought clicks in her mind. “Did...did you do this to me_?_” she asks, her voice dropping low and laced with menace. “Are you the reason for this?” Rey points at her eyes then the space above her head, repeatedly jabbing the air as her mouth forms a snarl.

“I don’t know who, but someone—”

Kylo is stuttering with a small voice but it’s all she needs to know.

Grabbing her lamp, she hurls it across the room at him with all her rage. She misses, and the lamp smashes against the wall, thick shards of porcelain flying in all directions. Kylo tries shielding himself, but in a fit of confusion, turns the wrong way just as a fragment flies towards him. 

There’s a grunt, and the sound of air being sucked sharply through clenched teeth. Rey isn’t sure who actually made the sound, but even in her rage her heart falls when she sees Kylo’s face. His hand is cradling the right side of his face, obscuring it from view, but Rey can see thin red ribbons pooling between his fingers.

Rey is horrified when Kylo purposely drags his fingers down his face, digging into his wound as he does so. He pierces her with his eyes, and even in the darkness of her room, they no longer shine like they used to. This is not the Kylo she knows. The person before her is an imposter.

All of a sudden, the stench of death permeates the air—and then vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. She never thought about it before, but the same scent always surrounded Death, filling her senses until she couldn’t disassociate it from reality. Then again, Kylo was constantly with her and they are the same. The detail makes her stomach turn, further reminding her of his deception. 

“Rey, I—”

“Get out.” Rey cuts him off with a whisper. 

“Please,” Kylo tries again, only to be silenced by the dark look on Rey’s face. 

“Get the fuck out,” she spits, knuckles whitening from how tightly her hands are clenched.

With his face cleaved open and eyes desperately trying to find hers, Kylo hangs his head in defeat. His step falters when he’s close to her, still giving her a wide berth, but doesn’t say anything. 

Rey keeps her face firmly glued straight ahead, eyes glassy as she listens to her front door open and close with a soft click. 

The silence is deafening. 

She slowly turns around to survey the damage. Her room is a mess now, just like her life. 

She looks down at herself and is immediately disgusted by what she’s wearing: the set of pajamas Kylo had chosen for her. She wants them off; she wants him off of her.

The clock on her bedside table reads the early hours of the morning. She can feel exhaustion starting to set in despite all the sleep she’s gotten, but she ignores it, angrily taking off her clothes with more violence than necessary, and runs to the shower.

Red marks bloom across her skin from how hard she scrubs at it, but she doesn’t care. She needs to be rid of his scent. She wants to erase any proof that he was ever part of her life, but when she steps out of the shower and the steamy fog slowly dissipates, Rey catches sight of a large purple splotch over her neck. She slaps her hand over the mark, shame sinking into her bones. 

_“I want your hands on me.”_

“No! No, no, no, no—” Squeezing her eyes shut, Rey tries to block the memories but they continue to rush through her mind. 

_“Yes. Lower. Please.”_

Disgust doesn’t come close to how she feels, especially when she’s putting on fresh pajamas and looks down to see four oval shaped bruises decorating both sides of her hips. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. The events of the last twenty-four hours turn over and over in her mind and she’s not sure how she’ll ever be able to sleep. She’s not sure of anything anymore.

When sleep finally comes for her, it is mercifully dreamless.

* * *

It feels like someone has taken an ice pick to her skull when she rises the next morning. It hurts to move but the sun is shining brightly through her window and painfully hits her eyes. She tries rolling onto her side, but gets an eyeful of the chaos from the night before. Glass and ceramic shards litter the floor by the side of her bed, along with dark red stains on her carpet.

Why? Why did he do that? That thing with his hand? 

Still staring at the carnage, Rey remembers how Kylo did nothing to stop the bleeding. If anything, he only made it worse by trailing his finger down his gash and gouging at his wound. It looked horrifically painful, but the pain in his eyes and voice didn’t seem to have anything to do with his wound.

_“Rey, please_.” 

No, she’s not going to feel sorry for him, not after what he’s put her through. Not after this cruel torment. 

Re-energised with a fresh surge of anger, Rey jumps from her bed and almost instantly collapses back onto it. She’s so weak; she needs food and water, along with some medicine. 

She rises again, slowly, and makes her way to the kitchen. She downs a glass of water with ease and pops a couple of headache pills before surveying her fridge, her fingers drumming against the plastic surface. There’s leftover pasta from last night, but she slams the door shut. _No fucking way_, she thinks to herself angrily. She tries the freezer, only to be greeted by boxes and ice cube trays of the stock he had made a few weeks back. 

“Fucking hell,” she mutters, slamming her freezer door shut. Seeing the stock cubes reminds her of the thoughts she had at the time, which causes a snarl to form on her face, knowing she was right.

She throws on some clothes, grabs her wallet, and makes her way to the supermarket. Even walking the familiar path brings an acrid taste to her mouth, knowing she’s walked the same path with Kylo, innocently laughing and smiling together as if what they had was real. Gritting her teeth, Rey pushes through the now-unpleasant memories and makes a beeline for the frozen food section—it’s the one section she never went in with Kylo. As it was before she ever knew him, the aisle of freezers full of ready-made food are a small comfort to her. 

Once she’s home with a warm container of food in her hand, she firmly ignores how fake the mac and cheese tastes, or that the container warps in a way that reminds her of Kylo’s sliced face. 

Sitting on her balcony, she stabs the remainder of the cheesy pasta, glaring at the empty balcony next to hers. She hasn’t seen Kylo at all. His apartment is dark and still; it looks like no one is home. 

Or he is home and is actively avoiding her.

She supposes that’s what she wants, but it doesn’t stop her from going inside, throwing her fork down with a loud clang against her table, stomping through her apartment, throwing her front door open, and thumping her fist on his. 

Why is she doing this? Didn’t she tell him to fuck off? Why is she so bothered by the lack of his presence? If she’d seen him in passing at some point in the day, she doubts she would be like this. 

“Kylo! Open this goddamn door!” Rey bellows, pounding her fist repeatedly on his door.

After stewing all day in thought, Rey’s not sure what she should believe about Kylo. A Grim Reaper? It’s ridiculous, ludicrous even, but she feels like it has to be true. But even if he is what he says he is, why did he bother with the whole act of making her fall in love with him? He could have just been honest with her from the start. Her ability to see life timers are clearly connected in some way to Kylo and his kind. She’s wondering now if she was too hasty in telling him to leave; she wants some answers, damn it.

Rey’s surprised no one is coming out to yell at her for being so loud. Kicking the base of his door, she has to hold herself back from physically breaking it down. 

She’s never felt such rage. Years of pent up frustration and anger come pouring out; the knowledge that she wasn’t born like this, that the bullshit Grim Reaper business is the reason for her cursed life. She never had a chance. And it was his fault—him, and whoever he works for.

There’s no response from inside. Almost ten minutes pass before Rey finally exhausts herself and gives up. “I’ll be back,” she mutters angrily, whispers of rage still simmering below the surface. 

Just as she’s about to go back into her apartment, Rey decides to try his doorknob. To her surprise, it opens. The door opening with ease is what grinds Rey’s anger to a complete stop. She nudges the door with her foot and it swings open to reveal an empty apartment bathed in darkness. There’s nothing inside, Kylo included. In fact, it doesn’t look like it’s been lived in at all. There’s a coating of dust all over the apartment. 

She doesn’t know how long she stands at the doorway, unable to take a step inside. It doesn’t feel right, any of this. But then again, nothing does anymore. 

* * *

The building manager is staring at her, which is understandable considering that she’s never voluntarily approached or spoken to him in the last five years. Rey doesn’t remember his name, only that he was friendly when she moved in.. 

“The apartment next to mine,” Rey tries again, ignoring how the manager looks at her like she’s sprouted another head. “Where did the tenant go?”

“They moved out months ago, Rey,” the manager says after finding his voice.

“No, the one that moved in after them. Kylo Ren. What happened to him?”

The manager’s brow furrows and the look he’s giving her is one she’s familiar with—her third foster family gave her the very same look when they thought she wasn’t aware they were staring. 

Clenching her jaw, Rey sniffs loudly, refusing to let stray memories affect her, and looks at the building manager expectantly. 

The manager is inching away from her. 

“There was never a Kylo Ren, Miss Niima.”

The formality he’s taken with her throws her off, but is nothing compared to what he’s said. “What?” she asks waspishly.

Standing taller, he replies in a firm voice. “The apartment next to yours has been vacant for almost two months now. I’ve been unable to lease it out, looks like no one is interested in it. Now if you’ll excuse me, unit 310’s bathroom is leaking and I’ve wasted enough time with your questions.”

He pushes past her but Rey doesn’t notice. She’s too busy trying to wrap her head around what she’s just learned. 

* * *

She doesn’t remember her trip to work, too preoccupied with solving the mystery of Kylo Ren. It’s not until she enters Dr. Kalonia’s office that she snaps out of her thoughts and remembers that her boss is away for the next few days. 

There’s a pile of folders stacked on her desk with a sticky-note labelled ‘Rey’ on top of it. She rifles through the files, and her shoulders sink at the sheer amount of mundane work ahead of her. 

This is what she’s always wanted, to work alone - except being alone right _now_ is the last thing she wants.

With a file in hand, she briefly considers going to another autopsy room and asking to assist, but she can’t. No doubt they would contact Dr. Kalonia and Rey can’t have that. She doesn’t want to bother her. 

It’s only a week, and there’s a ton of work to keep her occupied. It’ll fly by before she knows it.

However, only an hour passes before the enigma of Kylo Ren wriggles its way back into her mind. 

Was it all a dream? Did she want a normal, happy life so badly that she hallucinated the whole thing? There’s no trace of Kylo’s existence anywhere. But then her heart begins to pound when she realizes there _is_. 

Rey grabs a nearby metal tray and angles it so her neck is reflected back at her. Purple and red splotches decorate her neck. She gingerly touches the area, swiping her thumb over it to make sure it won’t disappear suddenly. Tears begin to prick at her eyes but she won’t give in, she _can’t_.

With a sigh of frustration, she tosses the tray to one side, ignoring the loud metal clang, and throws her head into her hands. She can’t even call his workplace because she never thought to ask him about it. _Why_ didn’t she ever ask him about it? Now that she’s thinking on it, she realizes she never knew _anything_ about him. Had she really been so madly head over heels in love with him that she willfully overlooked details she should have wanted to know? No, this wasn’t her. There had to be some other explanation.

Grim Reaper. Kylo specifically said that he’s a Grim Reaper. Did Grim Reapers have powers that made the people around them....stupid? Rey feels sick at the thought, but tries to focus on remembering anything that might give her a clue to the truth. There’s not much to go on; in the one and a half months they were together, the only personal detail she can recall they discussed was his family. 

Did...did Grim Reapers have families? 

Rey’s head starts to spin. No, she doesn’t want to think about this right now. 

Pulling her collar back up, Rey throws herself into her work. She stays in Dr. Kalonia’s autopsy room longer than she should, missing lunch in the process. The pile of work left behind is enough to occupy Rey for days, but she forces herself to get as much done as she can.

There are only a few cases left when there’s a sharp rap on the door, and Rey’s head darts up to see a security guard at the doorway.

“Sorry. I was just checking that the light wasn’t left on accidentally. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so late,” the security guard says, pointing to the clock. The hour hand is at ten with the minute hand hanging between six and seven. “Just make sure you close up when you’re done.” 

The moment the guard leaves, Rey snaps to attention and hurriedly finishes the case she’s been working on. She’s ignored her stomach clawing at her insides all day but seeing how late it is sends Rey into a panic; she’s never stayed at work this late before, and certainly never alone. Despite twenty-five years of believing this is what she wanted her life to be, it sends chills down her spine now that it’s happening. 

There’s a cold sweat painting her brow when she finishes cleaning up. She paused more than once when decontaminating her bench space, unreasonable fear sinking into her when eerie silence met her ears. She’s been more than fine being alone for so long, but it seemed that a month of being loved and taken care of drew her into a false sense of security. 

“It wasn’t love,” she mutters, throwing the cloth into the bin with more force than necessary. “You don’t know love, but that couldn’t have been it.”

Rey doesn’t eat when she gets home. She simply downs a meal replacement drink and calls it a night, her eyelids becoming heavy the moment her head hits the pillow.

She lets out a sigh of relief when she feels the sweet sensation of sleep overtake her. Her mind needs to rest.

* * *

This is familiar. The darkness, illuminated by an invisible light, the chilling cold that has no source…

_No, not again._

Rey pinches herself, but nothing happens. She scoffs; so much for being able to reclaim power in her life now. It seems if that asshole wants to talk, then there’s no avoiding it, no matter what she thinks.

She doesn’t see him, but she can feel him behind her. There’s no sound, yet her ears ring from the empty void, but she can sense his breathing: soft, through the mouth in an attempt to be as silent as possible.

Rey turns around, ready to snap at him, but freezes at the sight of him. He’s not wearing the three-piece suit she grew to love, or the plain black robe Death always wore. It’s just Kylo, in what looks to be heavy, knitted black robes with ribbed sleeves, and a thick belt cinching his impossibly large waist. There’s also a hooded cowl that sits perfectly on his head, hiding his distinctive, thick curls. She feels a pang of loss at seeing him this way.

He would look intimidating if not for the sheer pain and torture reflected in his eyes. He looks terrible, as if the two days they’ve been apart has destroyed whatever piece of his soul he might have had left.

Across his wounded face, in stark contrast to his skin, is a dark grey bandage-like material that stretches from the top of his right brow down his right cheek. It almost hurts to look at it, and at him.

“Your face,” she starts, not sure what to say.

The sound he makes, a sarcastic chuckle from the base of his throat, makes her stomach twist. 

“I’m surprised as well. It’s impossible to injure me, and yet, here I stand.” He gestures at his face with a wry smile. “A lot of things happened that shouldn’t have been possible. You shouldn’t even remember me.”

Rey rears back at his words, dumbfounded by what she’s hearing. “I’m _so_ sorry I’m still burdened by the knowledge of your existence!” she seethes. “Should I just go? Sorry, that’s right. I _can’t_ go because this is _my_ dream! _You _go!”

“I shouldn’t be here.” Kylo starts to walk backwards, eyes darting in all directions in panic. “I shouldn’t be able to contact you at all, let alone be in your dreams.”

Rey snorts, crossing her arms and shooting him a derisive look. “A bit late for that.”

Kylo regards her for a moment before his face becomes an impassive mask. Straightening himself, he clasps his hands behind his back, suddenly putting on an air of formality. “Since I’m here and don’t seem to be able to leave, I might as well inform you that you’ve been approved.”

“Approved for what?”

Kylo is making an effort to avoid her eyes. “To become a Grim Reaper when the time comes.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll have a choice and you’re more than welcome to turn it down, but we had to make sure you were suitable first.” It’s as if Kylo is reciting this whole spiel from an invisible piece of paper. His voice, along with his eyes, hold no emotion.

“Was this all an experiment?” Rey asks quietly. Despite all her rage and anger, her sorrow cuts through and hurts her the most. “Was _any_ of it even real?”

He doesn’t reply right away, and his lips press together firmly before he answers. “It’s what you make it to be.”

Her anger overrides her sorrow and she lashes out, deeply insulted by his seemingly flippant attitude. “Fuck you.”

His impassive mask falters slightly, but Kylo continues, appearing to be unaffected by her furious response despite the way he works his jaw. “With any luck, this will be the last time you see me.”

“And why’s that?” She tries not to be bothered by the fact, but fails.

“My report has been submitted and you’ve been approved. My job here is done.”

“Job,” Rey repeats. 

“You may have noticed your mind is no longer foggy. I’ve lifted any veils I had to cast over you—ones that made you accept it when I had to leave for my ‘job’ or when you suddenly felt tired when your mind started questioning my motives.” 

What he’s telling her is adding to the betrayal she’s feeling, but there’s one thing Rey cannot get over. “I was just a _job_?” she whispers, her voice starting to crack. 

She refuses to cry in front of him. He doesn’t have that privilege anymore, but she’d be lying if she didn’t feel betrayed, even more so than before. All of the emotional and psychological issues she’s carried her whole life come bubbling to the surface. She was never really wanted—not by her real parents, not by her foster parents. 

They never wanted her, never loved her, not really.

And now, it looks like Kylo never did either.

An involuntary sob escapes her, which snaps Kylo to attention. His calm facade breaks and he reverts to his earlier panicked state. “No, Rey! It may have started that way, but you...I—”

“Please leave. I’ve had a long day and I just want to sleep.” Tears stream down her face and she feels the protective layer she’d kept around herself for so long begin to slowly creep back, wrapping around her heart until she can’t feel the hurt anymore.

“Rey, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, let me—”

Rey wakes up with a gasp. 

It’s morning already and the birds are singing and the sun is glowing bright in the sky. She almost gags at how cheery it sounds outside.

Rey looks at the time with a scowl. She needs to get up for work; it doesn’t matter that she feels like she hasn’t slept a wink. She’s not going to wallow in bed because of this.

No, she was never like that and she never will be. 

She’s managed fine on her own, and she can do it again.

She doesn’t need anyone, least of all some Grim Reaper who’s made a mockery of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic violence for Rey throwing the lamp at Kylo and violence/gore for when Kylo digs his fingers into his wound.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few things from Kingdom Hearts that I used for this fic. Example, [the title is a song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9XljBWGrRQ) that *really* catches the mood from here on out. 

Days pass and Rey feels like the butt of some cosmic joke. 

She’s utterly exhausted. Restful sleep has eluded her for days. Her dreams of Kylo won’t stop and she has no choice but to endure his presence as she sleeps. If she could at least wake up revitalised, she might not be so annoyed when the familiar sound of unnatural silence fills her ears yet again. 

“Something is connecting us,” Kylo says when Rey turns to face him with sagging shoulders. She wouldn’t be surprised if this was all part of his plan, to appear in her dreams every night, wearing her down until she has no choice but to interact with him. 

“Really,” Rey says sarcastically. 

“The first night I came, I wanted to see you again. To make sure you were all right.”

“Wow, thanks for your concern.” She doesn’t even try to restrain her sarcasm. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t keep _stalking_ me in my dreams to make sure I’m safe.”

Kylo lets out a frustrated sound and runs his hand through his hair. “No, you don’t get it. Instead of being invisible to you, I’m in your dreams. This shouldn’t happen.”

Rey shoots him a blank look. “You’re going to have to explain. I fail to see how this is an issue. Can’t you just, I don’t know, STOP?”

“I’m trying! I’m not even actively trying to contact you but it seems that whenever you go to sleep, I get pulled from whatever I’m doing and shoved into your dreams!” Rey shrugs, not sure how it’s her problem. “Listen to me! This shouldn’t be possible! Something’s not right!”

“Honestly, this sounds like a you thing. After all, it was you and your kind that made me this way,” she says coldly. “But you know what? I’ll hear you out. Enlighten me. Make me understand.” Rey closes the distance between them and jabs a finger into his chest. She’s about ready to grab him by the collar and pull him close, ready to bare her teeth, but this is the first time she’s been close to him since his betrayal. She’s stubborn, but her wounds are still fresh. It would be so easy to tilt her head upward and meet his lips, to kiss their problems away, to pretend this never happened. She knows it’s irrational, and she hates herself for wanting it, but she can’t deny that it’s true.

“What do you want to know?” he asks. His tone is gentle and brings back memories she can’t afford to entertain right now.

“Everything. How you came to be, what your plan was—” Rey makes air quotation marks with her fingers. “But more importantly, explain to me how I can see people’s life timers.”

Kylo acquiesces, nodding. “Like I said before, I am a Grim Reaper. My job is to collect souls, more specifically souls who are tainted by crimes. You haven’t done anything wrong!” he quickly adds when her expression turns to horror. “You’re a Bequeathed and it was my job to assess you.”

“What do you mean by ‘a Bequeathed’?”

“Bequeathed individuals have been marked by the Reapers’ Curse, the ability to see, but not speak of, life timers. You may have noticed, but you are physically unable to speak about life timers with other mortals.”

_So I noticed_, Rey thinks angrily, recalling all the times she desperately wanted to ask someone about the floating numbers that plagued her childhood. 

“At some point in your life, you came into contact with a reaper’s skin,” Kylo carries on. “We have the ability to see how long people have to live, which makes it easier to hunt and collect souls, but while we’re amongst the Mortal Realm, we’re invisible. You can’t see or hear us, unless we choose to allow it, but we’re very much there. We try to keep out of the way and keep our skin covered so we don’t accidentally Bequeath anyone during our Cleavings.”

“Cleavings?”

Kylo unclips the cylinder from his belt and swings it. There’s a snap and the cylinder is now a scythe that towers over Kylo himself. Rey finds herself staring at the obsidian blade that glimmers in the darkness.

“When we have to sever souls from their bodies. Cleaving,” he says as he demonstrates the motion. His scythe whispers through the air, leaving red streaks behind.

Rey forces her eyes from the weapon. “So what you’re saying is that because some reaper was sloppy, I’ve been cursed for twenty-five years?” Rey can’t stand still and starts to pace, clenching and unclenching her fists as she makes her rounds in the darkness. “Is that why you always wore those suits? And those gloves?”

“Yes.”

“But we touched.” Rey stops suddenly and stares at her hands. She can still feel what it’s like to hold his hand, their fingers laced together with bare palms touching. Then she remembers every single time they fucked and heat rushes to her face. 

Kylo, unaware of Rey’s sudden change in demeanor, continues to explain himself. “You were already marked. There was no harm in touching you.” His voice drops several decibels; Rey has to strain to hear him. “You were my first.”

She’s definitely blushing now, vividly remembering how clumsy yet enthusiastic Kylo was during their first time together. “Yeah, well…” She trails off, not sure what to say.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, you’re the first Bequeathed person I’ve had to assess.” 

“Wait. Does that mean all you reapers just go around wooing unsuspecting cursed humans, or am I just special?” She tries to ignore the fact that she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed at him anymore. 

Rey can see his face heating up, and Kylo tries to compose himself. “No. I must admit, I was in over my head. The others don’t assess people like I did. No one has the time; we’re on a very tight schedule. It’s a miracle that my Elder allowed me to stay so long. Usually the other reapers just follow their assignments for a while to see if they try to interfere with anyone’s lives, knowing how long they have to live. If they do, then we intervene to take away their abilities and memories. If not, we leave them be, let nature run its course until they die, and then offer them the chance of eternal life as a Grim Reaper. It’s just me who’s deviated from the usual routine.”

“Oh. Well, good to know that there aren’t tens, probably thousands, of us who got catfished by Grim Reapers. How did I get so lucky?” The more she’s learning about Kylo and the reapers, the more it seems that Rey really _is_ cursed with bad luck. What are the chances of her being matched with the _one_ Grim Reaper who took it upon himself to try a new technique for assessing the Bequeathed? “What was the point of the whole thing? Why bother with the act?”

Kylo waves her question aside. “Politics amongst the reapers. I was trying to prove a point, which I did.”

“And what was your point?” 

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that. I already involved you enough as is.”

No. She was not going to let him get away with mansplaining, not about this. 

“I deserve an explanation. I want to know what made you think getting into a romantic relationship with your assignment was a good idea,” Rey rebuts stubbornly. 

“Fine.” His shoulders deflate. “Fine. I don’t trust the way the others are doing their jobs. It’s getting worse and I don’t think they’re assessing people properly. I wanted to show them that getting personally involved with the Bequeathed would yield more reliable results.”

It suddenly feels like there’s ash in her mouth. She really _was_ just an experiment.

“I was wrong,” Kylo continues. “What I’ve done isn’t the solution, but neither is their method. I know that now.” He takes a step towards her and when Rey doesn’t try to run away, he boldly continues until he’s close to her again. He raises his hand to take a section of her hair, but stops himself, leaving his hand hanging. “I’m truly sorry for what I’ve done to you, but I wouldn’t take it back. I don’t regret being with you, Rey.”

“Have you thought that maybe _I_ do? Did you ever consider what this—what you—what this would do to me?” 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Rey, please believe me. I never intended for this to happen. We were only meant to be friends but then...” He trails off and lowers his head but makes sure they don’t touch. Rey can feel his breath against the top of her head as she considers his words; she doesn’t know what to think. “I didn’t understand human emotions. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t.” Rey intends to sound harsh but her voice is weary and sad. 

“I have another confession to make.” Rey tenses at this, not knowing if she can stand yet another upsetting revelation, but forces herself to calm down and listen. “I know all about you and your life. It’s one of the abilities we have. We can access a Bequeathed’s history so we know how to test them, but Rey…” 

Kylo, who up until this point has made sure to not touch her, suddenly pulls her into a tight hug. She lets out a squeak, not expecting it, but finds herself melting into his arms. He rubs his cheek into her hair as his hands cradle her head. She always fit perfectly in his hands. 

“I’m so sorry for everything,” he whispers, tightening his embrace. “I’m sorry for Plutt. I’m sorry for Maz. I’m sorry you were cast aside. I’m sorry for it all.”

“You knew?” She doesn’t know if she’s relieved or angry at his admission, and can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. 

He nods and then whispers, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Her body goes numb; she knows exactly what he’s referring to. “You don’t know that,” she says softly.

“I do. Even if she went to the doctor weeks before, Maz was always going to die from an aneurysm that day.”

Somehow, the guilt she’s carried for years starts to melt away. “Always?” There’s so much hope in her voice.

“Always,” he reassures. “This is the life of a Grim Reaper. And I wasn’t trying to trick you, Rey. I looked at your history and I genuinely wanted to make you happy. I still do.” 

Rey lets out a hollow laugh. “It’s too bad we can’t stay together.”

Kylo’s responding chuckle is full of chagrin. “It’s horrible. But even if we somehow could, any memory of me will be gone when you agree to become a reaper.”

“What?” Rey pushes herself away and stares at him. 

“When we become reapers, we do not retain any memories of ourselves when we were alive. We are reborn as a blank slate and over time, our original personalities will start to come through and influence our decisions, but we don’t hold on to any tangential memories. It prevents us from becoming biased towards certain individuals. If we kept our memories, what’s to stop us from saving our families and friends? There are many rules for reapers, but the most sacred of all is to never save someone who is about to die. It’s forbidden.”

“Makes sense.” Rey relaxes back into his arms. She’s still so shocked and confused by all of this—and he’s a Grim Reaper, for crying out loud—but she craves his warm embrace and everything that comes with it. She feels loved here, and cared for, and it feels _real_. She’ll have plenty of time to be angry later, but for now, she just wants this. “So, you don’t remember your family?”

“I wasn’t lying when I told you about them.”

“But you said that reapers don’t remember their family.”

“I don’t, but there are things that I do that feel natural. Things I say that must be real. I don’t remember them happening, but I remember what things _felt_ like. Like standing in the kitchen with my mom. I don’t know her, but I miss her, and I can’t even conjure up her face,” Kylo says in anguish. “I hope she’s happy.”

Rey doesn’t know how to reply. She’s never had to comfort anyone and until Kylo, no one had ever comforted her, so she feels out of her depth. “I’m sure she is,” she says awkwardly as she rubs his back. 

“Why does it hurt when I think about her then?” 

“I don’t know.” Rey knows the feeling though. She felt it once, when her dreams of Death first started. “Kylo? Who was the girl in the box?” she asks, remembering how her chest clenched at the sight.

Kylo’s response is muffled by her hair but she hears him. “What girl?” 

“The one you put in my dreams.”

It’s Kylo’s turn to pull back, separating himself from Rey with his brows knit together. “What dreams?”

“You know, the dreams. The ones with you dressed as Death. There was a girl in a box, crying, and then there was you, in a robe holding a scythe.”

Kylo’s concerned face does nothing to ease her worries. “I’ve never been in your dreams until recently. Are you sure it was me?”

“Positive! As idiotic as it sounds, it took me the longest time to realise Death was _you_. Even though you’re identical, right down to every mark on your face. For some reason, I just couldn’t see it.” Rey gently taps on his moles before ghosting her fingers over his bandage. “Anyway, you always said something that woke me up. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you. I promise’.”

“I’ll come back for you,” Kylo repeats back, confused but curious. 

The moment the words leave his mouth, thick smoke gathers around their ankles. The fog blankets everything around them as far as they can see. 

A figure appears in the distance, drawing closer until Rey is able to see its features. It’s Kylo, except there’s something different. He looks like the one who holds her in his arms, but there’s no light in his eyes. It’s as if he’s a blank slate, completely devoid of emotion. He’s wearing a plain black robe. 

A familiar cry penetrates the silence, all three turning their heads to find the source.

“There,” Rey breathes, pointing to a child. 

A small girl’s head pokes up from the fog. If it weren’t for her cries, they would’ve missed her. 

The girl sniffles, seeing dead-eyed Kylo and immediately latches onto his cloak. “_Where’s mommy and daddy_?” the girl cries. 

The other Kylo—the one with glassy eyes who gives off an aura of death—tries pulling away, but the child has an iron grip. 

“_Please help me_,” she whimpers. 

Rey sneaks a glance at Kylo only to be surprised. He looks horrified at what he’s seeing and it takes Rey a moment to understand why: the place where the little girl has fumbled and grabbed at is close to Other Kylo’s ankles, much too close in fact. The darkness around them makes the area glow and it’s obvious to see that the girl had touched the Reaper’s skin.

“No,” Rey hears Kylo whisper. 

Other Kylo looks at something no one can see and tries to move towards it, but he can’t unless he intends to drag the child along, still attached to his leg. He bends down and picks up the child, carrying her a few metres, only to lower her into a box. She fits perfectly inside and looks up at him with large watery eyes.

_“Don’t worry,”_ Other Kylo says, wiping her tears away with surprising care. _“I’ll come back for you. I promise.”_

“Is that you?”

Kylo’s question falls on deaf ears when Other Kylo moves away from the box. When he’s far enough away and out of the girl’s line of sight, he brandishes his scythe and bears down in the direction he had looked towards earlier. Each heavy footstep he takes almost syncs with Rey’s heartbeat, her fear increasing by the second as to where Other Kylo is going.

It becomes quickly apparent as two figures come into view through the misty haze; a man and a woman. Rey and Kylo have not moved since the scenes began unfolding before them, and yet, they’re drawn closer and have perfect visibility. They come to a stop next to Other Kylo and all three watch the couple, waiting for what will happen.

_“Someone will find her_,” Rey hears the male say. “_It’ll be fine. She won’t remember any of this._”

“_Are you sure we should do this_?” the female says.

“_We tried. We never planned for this, remember? We tried for years, which is longer than others would have. We’re not the bad guys. The system works. She’ll be fine_.”

Their whispering is interrupted when the man suddenly collapses, clutching his chest. Other Kylo makes his move and appears next to the man in a blink of an eye. Life has barely left the man’s body when Other Kylo swings his scythe through him, Cleaving the ghostly outline before it realises what has happened. 

Rey watches with wide eyes as Other Kylo draws himself to full height, towering over the woman who’s screaming, half from surprise and half from grief. He doesn’t move a muscle, but keeps his scythe overhead, ready to strike at any moment. 

As predicted, the woman suddenly clutches her chest in a similar fashion, unable to make a sound as life leaves her body. Other Kylo throws his weight into his swing, red light buzzing around them before the woman’s body collapses on the ground. He stands over the bodies with a vacant expression, seeming to have no remorse for what he’s done.

Rey takes a step forward only for Kylo grab her wrist, stopping her from going further. She looks at him, a question on the tip of her tongue, when another being appears. The atmosphere shifts; it wasn’t welcoming before, only eerie, but there’s something sinister about the newcomer. Rey hasn’t had a chance to turn to see who it is, but she sees Kylo’s face. What was once alarm and panic on his face, is now full blown terror. 

Rey turns around, keeping herself close to Kylo, and sees a man in a black robe similar to Kylo’s, except there’s a shimmer of gold woven into the fabric. He has long silver-white hair that comes to his waist and has an air of superiority about him. He has a handsome face and Rey would almost believe him to be harmless if it wasn’t for Kylo trembling next to her. There’s something cold and menacing in his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his face doing no favors for Rey’s impression. 

“Elder Snoke?” Kylo whispers next to her.

The silver haired man claps mockingly, making Rey startle each time he produces the sharp sound. “_Well done, well done,_” he says. “_You’ve performed splendidly. You will make a fine addition to my collection._”

“Collection_?_” The dread in Kylo’s voice mirrors the heaviness in Rey’s chest. 

“_With you, I’ll never run out of souls. You will Cleave all the souls we need_.” Elder Snoke leans forward, crowding into Other Kylo’s personal space with a deep inhale. 

“_Need_?” Other Kylo says faintly.

“_This world needs to be cleansed, my boy. We are the Reapers who will save them_.”

Something stirs in Other Kylo’s eyes. “_Where did you go_?”

Snoke laughs and grabs his face with his palm covering Other Kylo’s eyes. “_You don’t need to worry about that. You’re doing so well. Don’t want to stop now, do you?_”

Suddenly, it becomes blurry around them. Snoke and Other Kylo become distorted, the memory becoming muddled with darkness and sludge. 

“_But_—” the Other Kylo stutters, only to let out a pained sound when Snoke squeezes, digging his fingers into the sides of Other Kylo’s head.

Rey cannot pull her eyes from the horrific scene. Compared to Kylo, Snoke is shorter with a body nowhere near as large or intimidating, but he cups his hand over Other Kylo’s mouth, muffling his cries and chuckles. “_It’s time to forget, sweet child. No need to burden you with such memories, Kylo Ren_.”

Kylo collapses to the ground next to Rey, kneeling with his head in his hands; the sound of his smothered whimpers float around them. His fingers dig into his temples as his shoulders shake. “This...why can’t I remember this? How? This shouldn’t have happened. What did he do to me?” he mutters, words becoming tangled and nonsensical.

Rey lays a hand on his shoulder in hopes to comfort him. “Kylo?”

When Kylo rips his face from his palms, there are tears streaming down his face. He looks as if his soul has been destroyed, hopelessly looking around for some sort of clarity. “Rey,” he moans. “What have I done?”

Rey rears back in shock. “What? Kylo, you haven't done anything wrong.”

Kylo roughly shoves Rey away from him. “No, you don’t understand. We should never have met. I should have _never_ been assigned to you.”

“It’s fine, Kylo. Well, no, not really, but I suppose I’ll get over it.” Rey weakly smiles and tries to convince herself and Kylo that it’ll be fine, even though she knows that it won’t. She’s used to being treated like she’s nothing.

“No!” Kylo stumbles to his feet and puts as much space between them. “I have never Bequeathed _anyone_ in my time as a reaper. It would have—no, _should_ have been documented if I had, but it wasn’t.”

“It’s fine,” Rey tries again, not entirely sure what Kylo is on about.

“I Bequeathed you,” he says with a crack in his voice.

“Well, I assumed it was you,” Rey mutters, but Kylo ignores her.

“The reaper who assesses a Bequeathed must not be allowed to assess someone they had cursed to begin with. It’s one of our sacred rules. Reapers may not remember their loved ones from when they were alive, but they can still be partial about who they decide to Bequeath. Not to mention the fact that no one wants an unsuccessful Bequeathing on their record. If we let reapers Bequeath, then assess the same human, there’s nothing to stop them from letting anyone and everyone into the ranks! It’s just as bad as saving them from their timers! There are reasons for this rule and this, this thing with us, it’s never happened before.” Kylo starts to pace back and forth with no real pattern. 

“Maybe this is what’s connecting us. Maybe that’s why you can remember me?” Kylo angrily ruffles his hair and takes his scythe out, swinging it madly. “Why was I alone? I shouldn’t have been alone! You saw how I was! It was my first Cleaving and I wasn’t supervised! Nothing makes sense! Snoke...Elder Snoke,” he corrects himself. “Where did he go? Why wasn’t he there? And why did he do that?” 

“Kylo, it’ll be fine—”

“No! Don’t you see? Me. It’s all my fault. You’ve lived a life of sorrow because of _me_. I prevented you from having a normal life! I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He sounds utterly broken and lost. “I need to make this better. I need to find out what happened, and why. I’m so sorry, Rey.”

He apologises over and over, and nothing Rey can do or say is getting through to him. All she can do is watch helplessly while Kylo spirals deeper into his manic state. 

“I’ll make this better,” Kylo mutters. “I’ll fix this and if not, then you’ll never have to worry about me or the reapers again. Goodbye, Rey.”

“Wait, what—” 

Rey snaps awake, clothes soaked in sweat. She cannot move, she cannot speak, her whole body is paralysed and exhausted from the heavy emotions rushing through her. She doesn’t know what to think; there’s just too much to process. 

She blinks as her room slowly brightens. That silver haired man—Snoke, Rey recalls—whoever he is, he’s responsible for all this. She can’t help but worry for Kylo.

Through her chaotic thoughts, a single memory pops back into her mind.

_“Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”_

Rey suddenly feels like she’s suffocating. A bubble of emotion starts to creep up her throat, and it escapes through her lips in the form of a cry as her eyes sting with tears. Because despite how completely fucked up everything is, Kylo had kept his promise. _He came back for her_.

“You came back,” Rey sobs, wrapping her arms around herself and turning onto her side. “You came back.” She cries in her room, all alone in her empty apartment, knowing that not only is Kylo gone, but that there is a good chance she will never see him again. She cries for what feels like hours, until her body is completely spent, and falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept of Bequeathing comes from Kingdom Hearts, which works more or less the same way.
> 
> [Young Snoke art](https://afterblossom.tumblr.com/post/187620060289/i-did-some-hot-and-young-snoke) by [Afterblossom](https://afterblossom.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: MURDER, SUICIDE, VIOLENCE/GORE, MINOR (?) CHARACTER DEATH**

It’s midmorning when Rey eventually wakes up, and she should panic at how late she is to work, but can’t muster the energy to care. Instead, she drags herself out of bed and takes her time getting ready. Her soul is tired. The few hours of rest she managed to get replenished some energy, but it’s nowhere near enough. It’s so late that she doesn’t even bother calling in to work—no one would be there to answer even if she did. 

Her colleagues from different departments are leaving for lunch by the time she arrives at work. She had cleared most of her cases the day before, but finds a new stack on Dr. Kalonia’s desk when she eventually gets to the lower levels. 

Rey is flicking through the new files when there’s a knock at the door. It’s a doctor from one of the other offices; Dr. Ackbar, if Rey recalls correctly. 

“Rey, I’m glad I caught you. There’s a body I need you to clean up. Standard case, no foul play, but the funeral home is too busy to receive more bodies. They’re in room 2187. The family wants an open casket, but it won’t be for a while,” he says.

“Embalming.”

“Yep, embalming.” Dr. Ackbar doesn’t stick around, throwing a thumbs up to Rey before leaving. 

The job sounds mundane, like something she could do with her eyes closed, but with her lack of sleep and current state of mind, it’s just what she needs. 

The autopsy room is empty when Rey arrives, save for the sheet draped body that rests on the metal table. She slaps on a pair of gloves and gets to work, pulling down the overhead hose to begin the cleaning process. According to the file, the patient died of cancer. 

Rey lifts the sheet, about to pull it off entirely, but falters at the sight of the deceased’s face. It’s an elderly woman with pale skin and brown-grey hair. She’s never seen this person in her life, but something niggles at the back of her mind, whispering things that she doesn’t understand.

“_Mom_.”

Rey whips around, searching desperately for who spoke. They sounded close, almost as if they whispered directly in her mind, but that’s not possible. She’s completely alone, her heart is pounding, and the room’s low temperature is doing nothing to stop the chills from running down her spine.

She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths until her heart rate returns to normal as she tries to convince herself that the voice was just a figment of her imagination. Rey opens her eyes and turns back to the body, only to gasp. The body is different; no longer an older female with brown hair, but a younger patient with blond hair. Rey frantically looks around, trying to find an explanation, only to come up empty. She pushes on, trying to keep calm, muttering to herself that it has to be the lack of sleep that is making her imagine things, that there’s nothing actually wrong with her; she refuses to entertain the idea that it could be anything else. She’ll take her time preparing this body and then call it a day.

Even though it’s the only case she plans to complete today, it doesn’t stop Rey from taking multiple breaks to make sure the deceased woman’s appearance doesn’t change again.

Once the body is ready, Rey transfers it to one of the empty drawers that line the wall, and is about to make a hasty exit when her phone rings in her pocket. She pulls her gloves off to answer it and is surprised to see it’s Dr. Kalonia calling her.

“Rey! I’m sorry for bothering you, but I left my USB at work and need a file that’s on it. It should be in my drawer.”

“Hang on, I’m in one of Ackbar’s rooms. I’m heading back to your office now.”

“Ackbar? I told him that you were available if the situation calls for it, but I didn’t expect him to need you straight away. It’s only Tuesday!”

Rey merely hums in response as she makes her way through the stairwell, back up to Dr. Kalonia’s office. “How is Hanna City?” She’s not usually one for small talk, but it’s what she needs after what she’s endured over the last twenty-four hours. She’s relieved to talk to an actual human being.

“Hasn’t changed a bit since I left. Even the hospital I used to work at is the same.”

“All right, I’m back in the office. Which drawer is the USB in?”

“Should be second drawer on the left. It’s a black one with a BactaAid logo on it.”

“Second drawer, left,” Rey mutters, the drawer sliding open easily. She finds the USB straight away and proceeds to plug it into the desktop. She’s drumming her hands on the desk as she waits for the computer to log her in when something inside the drawer catches her eye.

There’s a photo half buried under some papers; the exposed portion of the photo shows a familiar looking lady with brown hair. Rey isn’t one to snoop but she picks up the photo to get a better look. It’s a picture of three women, standing and smiling together. She recognises Dr. Kalonia immediately, who stands to the left of the trio in the photo. In the middle is a tall lady with purple colored hair and the brown haired woman who caught Rey’s eye is to her right. 

Rey stares at the photo, ignoring the ‘_Welcome_’ splash screen of the computer. The brown haired woman is identical to the person she’d seen earlier, the one who was on the autopsy table in room 2187. 

“Hey, Kalonia. Who’s in the photo that’s in the drawer?”

If Dr. Kalonia has an issue with Rey going through her drawer, she doesn’t say anything, but her reply is strangely enthusiastic.

“The one with the three of us? That was a lifetime ago!” Rey has never heard Dr. Kalonia like this—nostalgic with a hint of sadness. “I’m in Hanna City because Leia, the one with brown hair, passed away twenty years ago. I didn’t realise how much time had passed until Amilyn—she has purple hair in the photo, I believe—contacted me.”

“How did she die?” Rey winces at how forward she’s sounding, but she needs to know, even though she thinks she already does.

“Cancer,” Kalonia says. “Her whole family never recovered from her death, especially after…” The doctor trails off, leaving Rey with static silence. “Sorry to leave you hanging like this, Rey, but could you send me the files?”

“Of course. Hang on, I’m pulling the files up now.” Rey listens and follows Dr. Kalonia’s instructions but can’t shake the feeling that settles in her stomach. She’s never heard such a drastic change in the doctor’s voice before. 

“Thank you so much for this, Rey,” Dr. Kalonia says in an overly cheery voice when Rey sends the files. “Hopefully the rest of the week goes okay.”

“Yeah, no worries,” Rey says distractedly, more than eager to hang up. 

Once the line has disconnected, she opens a new browser and searches ‘Leia Hanna City’. 

Rey soon learns that Leia wasn’t just some random person. She came from a notable family and was a senator for a number of years. The headlines that follow fill Rey with dread. 

_‘Nation Mourns as Senator Leia Organa Dies of Cancer at age 60’_

_‘Husband & Son of Recently Deceased Senator Organa Found Dead in Shocking Murder/Suicide’_

Rey immediately clicks on that article and is instantly met with Kylo Ren’s familiar face. The article used a family photo, but Kylo isn’t smiling. Even when he was a human, he looked troubled. Also, his name isn’t Kylo Ren, but Ben Solo. Did all Grim Reapers change their name when they started a new life?

Mentally shaking her head—it’s not the time for such trivial questions—Rey skims the article, eyes widening with every sentence. The article doesn’t delve into the intricate details of Ben’s family, but from what Rey can tell, luck was not on his family’s side.

The night of Leia’s wake, Ben had gone mad and stabbed his father, Han Solo, before killing himself in their kitchen. 

Something feels wrong. Kylo doesn’t remember anything about his family, so there’s no reason to lie. What he’d said about missing his mom had to be true, yet in the photo with the Organa-Solo family, misery is clear as day on Ben’s face.

Rey rests her hand against the screen, her finger covering part of Ben’s face so she can only see his right eye staring back at her. He looks so sad. 

She wants to see him. She wants to tell him what she’s discovered, and uncover the truth together, but she doesn’t know how to get in touch with him. Her dreams seem to be the only way for them to connect. Would it still work, after what had happened last time?

Rey is eager to try again, despite Kylo’s insistence that they would not meet again. She quickly gathers her things and leaves work. She stops by the pharmacy on the way home to pick up some melatonin, hoping it will put her to sleep quicker and more deeply.

She’s hungry by the time she gets home, but there’s nothing but unappealing frozen meals in her freezer. The gnocchi she made with Kylo is still in the fridge and Rey microwaves it without a second thought. It’s heavy and full of carbs, and by the time she polishes off the too-big serving, Rey’s eyelids are heavy and her body is relaxed. 

For good measure, Rey takes double the recommended dosage of melatonin. She falls asleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow. 

Much to her delight, she dreams, but it’s not the kind of dream she wanted. 

Instead of connecting with Kylo, she’s greeted with unknown scenery, locked in a dream that she has no choice but to watch play out. 

It begins innocuously enough. 

Rey finds herself standing in a large living room. She can move around, much to her surprise, and takes the opportunity to explore. There are photos atop the fireplace to her left. She recognises the people in the photos immediately: it’s Kylo—or Ben—and his family. Each photo is at a different point in his life; some include his parents and some are of only himself. He was smiling widely at the camera in the oldest photos, his chubby baby face totally devoid of the stress or sadness that shows in the later photos.

Rey hears a laugh coming from the next room over, probably the kitchen, and she goes towards it. 

Leia, now lacking any grey in her brown hair, is laughing at the kitchen counter while a small Ben leans against the other side of the benchtop, paying close attention to the dough his mother is forming. 

“Ben, be careful, or you’ll get flour all over you! I just washed that jumper too,” Leia says, only to cheekily bop his nose and swipe flour on his face.

“Mom!” Ben whines, batting her hands away.

“You’re just like your father. I tried teaching him how to make this, but he made an absolute mess out of it.”

Ben makes a face then puffs out his chest. “I’ll do better!”

The scene changes in a cloud of smoke; Rey is briefly disoriented, but quickly gets her bearings. She sees Ben again, a bit older now, but still very young, standing and sniffling while his father kneels in front of him. 

“Ben, the principal says you got into a fight with the other boys. What happened?” Han asks. Rey is no expert, but she can see an uncomfortable tension between them.

“They were making fun of me. They kept calling me crazy,” Ben mopes, angrily wiping his tears. “Where’s Mom?”

Han lets out a long sigh. “Ben, we’ve been through this. Mommy can’t come right now. She’s very busy.”

“Why can’t Mommy come home?”

Han closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before answering. “She just can’t, not yet.” There’s something in Han’s voice that sticks. It’s something Rey has experienced numerous times in her life, despite everyone denying it afterwards. She can hear resentment and annoyance hidden beneath his nonchalant tone. Han thinks he’s hiding his annoyance but Rey can see and hear it clear as day; she wonders if Ben does, too. The only question is who he’s annoyed at; is it Ben, or Leia?

Her surroundings change again. This time, Ben is now well into his teen years; he’s much taller now and his large ears poke out from hair that’s been cut too short. There’s an older man with him that Rey has never seen before, standing calmly as Ben yells at him.

“Luke, I’m not lying!” Ben’s voice is desperate and laced with anger, but the man —Luke —merely shakes his head.

“Ben, there’s no one else here, it’s just us. You need to calm down right now. You know how busy your parents are. You can’t throw a fit whenever they’re not around.” Luke is stern, which doesn’t help the situation.

“I’m not throwing a fit! There was a voice! I swear, I heard it! I’m not making it up!”

“There’s been no one in or out of your house, Ben. It’s just _us._ Get ahold of yourself!”

“Why won’t any of you believe me?” Ben screams, grabbing the closest object and hurling it at Luke.

“Ben!” Luke roars, defending himself from the picture frame. It smashes on the ground, the family photo inside now covered with shards of broken glass. “Ben, you have to stop this!” 

Ben ignores him, grabbing another frame off the wall and launching it at Luke again. 

Luke side steps and dodges it with ease, shouting at him angrily. “Are you crazy? You know what? Nevermind. I can’t be here anymore. Just...clean up this mess before Leia gets back.” Luke storms from the house, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang. Ben gives no indication that he heard a word of what the man said, he just continues to hurl every object within reach across the room. 

By the time Ben realises Luke is gone, all the picture frames have been destroyed. Images of the smiling faces of himself and his parents litter the floor, shards of glass and splinters of wood are everywhere. He drops to the floor and rocks on his knees, ignoring how the glass digs into his skin, and cries loudly. He clutches at his head until his knuckles whiten, all the while muttering under his breath.

Rey squats in front of him and strains to hear what he’s saying.

“Make it stop. Make it go away. I’m not crazy. Make it stop, go away...no more...please, no more.”

She wants to reach out to him, and tries, but her hand falls through his head. She knows what Ben is experiencing —too many times has Rey cried herself to sleep, repeating the same words until her body was too weak and dehydrated to stay awake. But she’d never heard voices, only seen the timers. Since Kylo had eventually become a Grim Reaper, he had to have been Bequeathed and cursed, but it’s as though he’d been cursed in a different way. How could that be? What was different about him?

Suddenly, a sinister aura appears and drapes over Ben, his shoulders tensing in a millisecond as he becomes aware of it. Rey might not be able to touch Ben, but she can feel the shift in the air. He hugs himself tighter, no longer muttering, keeping as silent and as still as he can. 

There’s a deep laugh, and it echoes and bounces off the walls; the sound is terrifying. Ben is now trembling with fear and tucks his head between his tented legs before crossing his arms and throwing them over his head in an attempt to protect himself.

“_I’ll come back for you, my boy_.” 

Rey startles at the voice, but Ben rockets across the room, glass crunching under his hands and knees and drawing blood as he scurries to the corner. He grabs a large piece of glass and wields it menacingly, but keeps his head down. He swipes blindly while keeping a hand pressed against his head, his bloody fingers splayed and his nails clawing deep into his scalp.

“You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real—”

Rey’s heart breaks at what she’s just witnessed. But that laugh, she knows that laugh. She doesn’t breathe when the scenery changes again, her body unable to move from her crouched position. 

She’s no longer in Ben’s home, but in a large church. She gets to her feet and her heart drops at the sight of Leia’s face on a large canvas; it’s sitting next to an open black casket.

The church is empty, save for two people. Ben, in a black suit, sits at the back of the room, elbows against his knees with his head hanging low, though Rey catches a glimpse of his face as he briefly peeks up at the sound of footsteps approaching him. He looks the same age as Kylo now, even down to the stress lines on his familiar face. 

Luke, also older, now with strands of grey in his formerly brown hair, stops at the end of the row Ben is sitting at. “Nice of you to show up.”

Ben doesn’t say anything, keeping his face focused on the floor.

“You should have come sooner. She wanted to see you. Why didn’t you come?” Ben still doesn’t reply and Luke kicks the bench in anger. “And don’t tell me it was because of the voices again!” 

That sets Ben off, and his face snaps up to expose his red, tear-stained face. “Shut up!” He lunges at Luke, grabbing him by his collar and is a second away from punching the old man when Han rushes in and forces them apart.

“Hey! Stop it! You think Leia would want this?” Han shouts, pushing Luke away but keeping a steady hand on Ben’s chest.

“Han, Leia has asked for Ben for months and he never even bothered to return our calls.”

“Luke, just let it go.” It sounds to Rey like Han wants to say more, but is just too tired.

The surroundings shift again and Rey is back in the Organa-Solo household. Ben is next to her, standing in the doorway to what appears to be his old room. 

“We kept it the same,” Han says from behind.

Ben doesn’t move to acknowledge his presence. Instead he slowly enters the room, picking up a Tooka doll that sits on his bedside table. The toy looks small in his large hand, and he gently rubs the ear between his fingers.

“We missed you.”

“Did you come to tell me off?” Ben asks quietly. “To tell me how terrible of a son I am?”

Han regards him with tired eyes and shakes his head, even though Ben cannot see him. “You’re still my son. Come on, let’s talk in the kitchen. I’ll make you something.” He doesn’t wait for Ben to answer and goes to the kitchen without him.

Ben follows soon after. He drags his feet to the kitchen and watches Han make some toast while pouring out two cups of coffee.

“A bit late for coffee, isn’t it?” There’s no heat in Ben’s voice, but he takes the cup anyways. “It tastes like shit.”

Han grunts and drinks from his own. “Yeah, well, what are you gonna do about it?”

A moment of silence passes before the sound of the toaster popping interrupts it. “Nothing,” Ben says. The toast is burnt, but he eats it all the same.

“Look, kid, I know we weren’t always there for you, and I’m sorry for how we parted ways. Your mother really thought you’d come back. She always believed in you, even when I was too caught up in my own shit to listen. And I know it’s too late for apologies, but I don’t want to fight anymore—”

Han continues to ramble as he picks at his own toast, but Rey doesn’t pay him any attention. Instead, she’s focused on Ben, who had been looking ready and willing to hear his dad out, but now his eyes have become strangely clouded. The warmth that had been growing is now absent from his face, replaced by a cold demeanor that makes Rey want to step in front of him. She tries to shake him, but her hands fall through again. 

“Ben,” she gasps, helpless to do anything as Ben crosses the kitchen in a few strides, grabbing a knife from the knife block and plunging it into Han’s torso. “Ben!”

Han is completely caught unaware and drops his cup of coffee. It doesn’t smash, but thunks and rolls to the side, spreading the black liquid over the white tiles. “Ben?” he stutters, eyes wide. 

“I…” Ben opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish, unable to speak as he drives the blade deeper into his father’s midsection. 

“_Good, good. That’s right, he deserves it. They all do. End it, now!”_ Rey looks around wildly, trying to find the voice’s source.

Ben lets out a strangled cry as he twists the knife, unshed tears filling his widened eyes. Han struggles to breathe and places a shaky hand against Ben’s face, tilting it slightly to cup his cheek. His lips move but no sound comes out.

Through her mad search for the voice, Rey catches the look on Han’s face. It’s not one of anger or betrayal, but of what can only be described as fatherly love. Even with light rapidly fading from his eyes, he still sees his son. 

Ben yanks the knife out and steps away, watching Han’s body slump to the floor. He stumbles backwards and bumps into the island, holding onto it with his life.

“Why?” he whimpers, blinking rapidly, releasing his tears. 

“_Because it is what it is.”_

“But why?” With a surge of anger, Ben swings the knife through the air, swiping to fight the invisible foe. 

Instead, the invisible being laughs cruelly. “_If only I hadn’t Bequeathed you, then I’d have the full set_._ Mommy, Daddy, and you._” 

Ben lets out a shout when a lanky, hollow-faced man appears before him. He’s bald and bits of skin hang from his sunken face. The black robe that hangs off his skeletal body doesn’t fit him, and the scythe in his hand looks too heavy for him to hold. He lazily swings the scythe at Han’s body, disconnecting the white soul before it’s fully formed. 

Strings of mist latch onto his spindly fingers and beads of pulsating light travel up through his body. The being breathes deeply, each inhale becoming louder and more animalistic until the pockets of his face begin to fill out and silver strands of hair bloom atop his head. His hair grows longer and longer and his face continues to shift until the familiar, handsome face of Elder Snoke is in the room with them. 

Except he is anything but handsome, knowing how he came to be like this. Bile rises in Rey’s throat, and she is overcome with disgust, and it only gets worse when he steps towards Ben with a taunting voice. 

“No matter. Making you a Grim Reaper is just as good.” Snoke raises his hand, fingers taut like a puppeteer. “It’s time.” His hand snaps into a fist, and a wide smile spreads across his face as Ben presses the bloody knife against his own throat. 

“No!” Rey screams as the blade drags across Ben’s throat. The cut is so deep that death is instant, Ben’s head lops backwards and his body falls to the ground. 

Darkness immediately starts to swirl around her, pulling away all light until Rey is left in a black void. Snoke’s laugh echoes in her head and around her, smaller chuckles puncturing through the already harrowing sound, until it suddenly clears and silence falls.

“What is your name?” Rey hears Snoke ask.

An emotionless voice replies. “I don’t know.”

“Good, good. From henceforth, you will be known as Kylo Ren. Welcome to my Order.”

No matter where she turns, Rey cannot see Snoke or Kylo. She’s trapped in darkness. She spins on her toes and reaches out, frantically searching, shouting, heart pounding in her chest until—

Rey screams herself awake and runs from the room, her body now energized with endorphins.

She doesn’t know what to do with what she’s just seen. How did she even see it? 

Rey wishes she could have reached out to Ben somehow, to help him or warn him, and she needs to talk to Kylo, to tell him about everything she’s learned, she’s just a human. She looks around helplessly, her head spinning with the impossibility of it all. She hates feeling this way. She’s felt this way her whole life, unable to do anything while people suffer and die around her. 

The curse that befell both herself and Kylo has to stop. She’s no hero by any means, and what little self control she has left is in tatters. 

She’s tired of being subject to the whims of fate. It ends now.

It’s time to take back her life, even if it means she has to lose it first.

Rey cannot see her own timer, so she does not know if this is how she was supposed to go, but she doesn’t care. Thwarting her life timer in this way feels good, even if she cannot confirm it.

She grabs a knife and presses it against her throat, her skin stinging each time she swallows. _Three, two, one_, she mentally counts before slashing her throat, her shoulder joint cracking from the amount of force she puts into the movement.

All Rey can think of as she falls to the floor with blood pooling around her, is Kylo. 

“I’m...coming…” she says weakly, her words becoming garbled as the last of her life leaves her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so close to the end now!! thank you again so so much for reading and going along this wild ride with me and for all your comments in the last chapter!! everyone's reaction is spot on <3

The first breath Rey takes when she wakes makes her feel like she’s suffocating. 

When she forces her eyes open, she realises she _is_ suffocating. She’s submerged in a gel-like fluid, her lungs and eyes are burning and she has to sit up, violently sputtering. 

She’s completely naked, except for the thick liquid coating her body. Looking around, she’s alone in a sparsely furnished grey and black panelled room; there’s a towel and a set of folded clothes on the table next to her. She quickly gets up and dries herself, paranoid that someone will walk in. 

The clothes are odd, nothing like she’s seen before, and they fit her perfectly. She dons a dark grey tunic made of woven fabric that is surprisingly warm, a set of matching pants, and a pair of soft leather boots. Weirdly enough, thin pieces of light grey fabric fall from her shoulders and automatically wrap in an X over her body, and then a wide belt secures itself around her waist. There is also a set of cream colored armbands; she pulls them on, only because her skin is pimpling at the cool air. Her clothes match her surroundings, all in different shades of grey.

There’s a mirror nearby and Rey surveys herself, gingerly touching her throat. Her skin is smooth and undamaged, but she can still feel the sensation of her flesh being severed. 

She suddenly remembers everything, snaps to attention, and sets off. She needs to find Kylo.

The door slides open automatically when she nears it, and she half expects someone to be guarding the door, but there’s no one there. She pokes her head around the corner and finds the hallway empty. This place, wherever it is, feels clean and sterile, with grey panels and shiny black floors. She can even see the reflection of her face in the floor beneath her feet.

But now is not the time to marvel at her new surroundings. She has no clue as to where she should go, so she takes a guess and starts walking. As much as she wants to look around in wonder, it’s far less suspicious if she keeps her head straight, chin up and shoulders back. She needs to look the part, like she belongs here, but that goes to dust when a pair of guards wearing white robes with black bands round the corner and immediately yell at her.

“Hey, you! Come here!”

Rey hasn’t even done anything yet and they’re already chasing after her. 

She doesn’t get far, her feet stumbling as if she doesn’t have full control of them. One of the guards grabs her wrist, wraps his arms around her midsection, and firmly holds onto her as she struggles against him. 

“Let me go!” Rey screams, driving as much force as she can manage into kicking the other guard attempting to subdue her. The guard who has her in a tight hold doesn’t relent, even after she headbutts him, though the sound of bones crunching is very satisfying when it meets her ears. 

It’s not until Rey chomps down on his arm that he finally lets her go, dropping her like a sack of potatoes. 

Rey doesn’t plan to stick around to see what they’ll try next, and she scrambles to her feet and dashes in the opposite direction. Once again, she doesn’t make it far, running straight into someone. She falls back onto her backside, furiously blinking as everything stops spinning.

* * *

When Kylo set up his meeting with Elder Snoke, with the intention of confronting him, the last thing he expected was to run into Rey on the way. Literally.

His mind goes completely blank, and his mouth is unable to form any words as he stares down at her. Rey, who he had left behind with no expectation of seeing ever again, is in front of him now—_in the Reaper Realm_. The question of how she came to be here immediately blares in his mind, but it’s squashed by the pure relief that floods through him. He thought he would have to spend the rest of eternity with only memories of their time together as a reminder of what he once had, but now, with her in front of him—real and solid and breathing—he doesn’t care how it happened, he only cares that she’s actually _here_. 

“Master Ren!” 

An unpleasant, whiny voice interrupts his thoughts, and he reluctantly turns his gaze away from Rey to see a pair of Reapers standing metres away. They look pleased with themselves for cornering Rey, but as he pierces them with a deadly glare they stiffen, backs becoming ramrod straight and shoulders tense. Gone is a good job’s satisfaction, replaced by trepidation as the Master of the Knights of Ren stalks towards them.

“Where did you find her?” he asks, voice so low and dangerous that it makes them tremble. The corner of his mouth twitches, hearing the shakiness in their breaths.

One of them braves answering him, but their response is nothing but a nervous stutter. “W-We found her wandering around. Sh-she hasn’t been inducted yet. We w-were going to report to you or Reaper H-Hux—”

The mention of Hux sends Kylo into fury and his glare only gets more menacing. “I’ll take it from here,” he says harshly, bending down to hoist Rey to her feet before leading her away.

The other guard suddenly finds his courage and calls out to Kylo, or maybe, ironically enough, he has a death wish. “Hang on, sir! This one is a fighter. You’re going to need these.” 

Kylo looks down at a pair of handcuffs. He wants to snap at them, how dare they think that he, Kylo Ren, is unfit to escort a wayward Grim Reaper. Did they think him to be so inept? 

His contempt is clear as day on his face as the guard shakes in his boots, about to withdraw his suggestion when Kylo takes the restraints and secures them around Rey’s wrists.

He doesn’t bother to dismiss them, turning on his heel and leading Rey down the hall. His hand hovers at the small of her back, not touching her, but longing to.

Rey has not uttered a peep throughout this exchange, and continues to remain silent when he pushes her into an elevator. Has he only frightened her, or has she truly died and consented to have her memories wiped so that all that remains is a blank slate that will eventually become a Reaper? 

His questions are immediately answered when the heavy door slides shut and Rey looks up at him with eyes holding so much emotion and feeling that there’s no doubt about who stands in the elevator with him. 

As much as he wants to savor this moment, the elevator is rocketing upwards so smoothly the movement can hardly be felt, but Kylo knows how fast it is, and its destination. It seems to launch Rey into action, within a second she’s surging forward and grabbing the front of his tunic. 

“Kylo, you need to get out of here! That monster, he’s setting you up!” 

He doesn’t make any effort to pull himself free, silently rejoicing at her closeness. “Elder Snoke? I already know,” he says simply. “He should never have left me unsupervised. Everything that has happened to you is because of what he did that night. I need to know why.”

He doesn’t want to admit it to Rey, but questioning and defying an Elder is a laughable endeavor and he has no idea what he’s doing. He cannot contact Elders from other Orders to report Elder Snoke’s transgressions, so no discipline will ever be involved, but he has to do something. He just wants to know why—why him? And why Rey? Elder is the highest rank a Grim Reaper can hold, what benefit is there from manipulating one insignificant reaper and one small human girl?

“No, Kylo, you don’t understand!” Rey grabs Kylo’s face and forces him to look at her. “He killed your parents. He killed _you_. If Bequeathing me and then assessing me is really such a crime, then what he’s done is a million times worse!”

“What?” It feels like the ground beneath him has disappeared, his heart is leaping up his already constricting throat. “What are you talking about?”

“He Bequeathed you, then killed you and made you into a reaper. He’s controlled your whole life!” 

“What? What proof do you have?” His body feels weak and it hurts to stare into Rey's eyes that hold so much determination. “What you say is impossible.”

“A dream,” she says simply, and Kylo lets out an involuntary snort.

He doesn’t want to sound like he’s mocking her, but he can’t help himself. “Rey, please.”

She huffs, and stamps her foot. “Is that so unbelievable? I had dreams about you telling me that you’ll come back, for weeks! Is it that unlikely that I saw your human life in a dream as well?”

“I don’t even know my human life! How can I possibly verify anything you tell me?”

He has a point, and he can tell Rey knows it. “I saw you cook with your mother, when you were a child. Or more like, you watched her cook while you made a mess. She made gnocchi just like how you taught me to. You looked so happy with her...it looked like you were closer to her than your dad. And—”

“Rey,” he interrupts, feeling sick at her words. When Rey described his interactions with his mother, he could almost feel remnants of sticky flour on his hands and hear a female laugh echoing in his mind, but the moment she mentioned his father, his chest constricted painfully. He doesn’t want to hear about his father, but he doesn’t know why. There’s something buried deep in his memory making it unbearable to think about. “None of this matters. It’s all in the past.” It sounds unconvincing to his own ears even as the words leave his lips.

“Snoke controlled you! He’s different! I can see timers, but you...you were different! You could hear voices instead! I don’t know why, I barely understand any of this stuff, but I watched it tear you apart! You were so scared, all alone with those voices. Snoke looked different too, his face was grotesque with bits of it hanging off and missing. He possessed you somehow, made you kill your dad! I saw the whole thing, Kylo. Snoke is evil and you need to get out of here!”

Rey didn’t mention how he killed his dad, but he already knows. Still looking at Rey’s face, his hand clenches around an invisible object. He can feel it, the heavy wooden knife handle. “It’s too late,” he says with a shaky voice. “We’re going to see Elder Snoke now. I’ve requested a meeting with him, to get the truth and to relieve myself of my duties. I cannot…”

“Ben.” 

Kylo looks at her sharply. That name...he knows that name. Unknown and unseen voices have whispered the name to him.

“Ben,” Rey says again, looking at him beseechingly. She doesn’t touch him again, but leans towards him instead. “Snoke is dangerous. We need to run.”

The elevator stops with a low ding, doors opening before either of them are ready. “I can’t,” he breathes, lips unmoving as he takes her arm and leads her into the large room where Elder Snoke awaits him. He lowers his hand to the small of her back, giving her an encouraging push before he drops to his knees in reverence before his Elder.

“Elder Snoke,” Kylo addresses with his head bent. “We have an unexpected guest.”

“My, my, my, I can see that. Her timer was not due for many years, and yet, here she is. Come closer, girl, let me see the human who has led my dear Kylo Ren astray.”

* * *

Upon his throne, Snoke is the handsome version of himself from Rey’s dreams. Strands of silver hair drape perfectly over his black and gold robed shoulders, and Snoke lifts a single hand and beckons Rey towards him. Rey doesn’t budge, determined to remain by Kylo’s side, but she feels her body being locked in place with her arms by her side and levitated into the air. Her feet drag along the shiny floor towards the throne and her heart races as she gets an up close and personal view of Snoke. Rey tries to struggle against her invisible bonds, but to no avail. 

Even though he reeks of charisma and charm, Rey cannot unsee the twisted face from her dreams, the one who controlled Ben with nothing but glee in his eyes. 

When she’s close enough to touch, Snoke trails a single clawed nail along her jawline, stroking her face. Rey wants to simultaneously throw up and violently thrash. Instead, she manages to rear her head back and snap her teeth, coming dangerously close to biting off his finger. 

The only response she gets is a laugh before he roughly grabs her jaw, nails digging into her skin. “You’re the most insolent Template I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting,” Snoke hisses.

There’s a trickle of blood from how deep his nails are, but she doesn’t feel the pain. She’s standing on the precipice between fear and anger, remembering the anguish and personal hell he’d put Kylo through, had put them _both_ through. The way she’s being held is strikingly similar to how he gripped Kylo’s face after he Cleaved her parents, except she is entirely aware of what’s happening around her. She isn’t lost or confused like Kylo, and that gives her the confidence to glare at Snoke. 

“That’s because_ I_ remember, and I know what you did. I know what you are.” Rey’s words are like icy daggers, and she knows they’ve hit a sore spot when Snoke tightens his hold on her. 

“And what are you going to do about that, huh? Did you come all this way to save your boyfriend?” Snoke’s eyes slide from hers to the left, to Kylo. “Did you think you could persuade him to turn against me? Do you think he really cares about _you_?” He lets out a bark of laughter. “He can’t remember anything I don’t allow him to remember, and that includes you, my dear; I’ll make sure of it. Do you think he has any power over me? I’m an Elder. Without me, he would be _nothing_. I’ve made him the extraordinary reaper that he is, and I’m not about to let my investment go to waste.” Suddenly, he leans in so only Rey can hear his next words. “And I’m no ordinary Grim Reaper, either.” 

Their faces are so close that all Rey can see are his eyes, but something changes and shifts. His once blue eyes distort for a second, just a flash, but long enough for Rey to catch a glimpse of grey ones, lightened by age, surrounded by sallow and sunken skin. Something tells her that he intended for her to see this.

“My power is ancient, and so am I. How do you think I’ve lived this long?” he whispers, face handsome once again. 

From behind her, Kylo doesn’t move. She can’t turn to check, but she hasn’t felt him move since they were separated. 

“Ben,” Rey gasps desperately. 

The raucous laugh from Snoke rocks the room, making her sway. “_Ben_?” he says in disbelief. “My, you really do know everything! And just how did this knowledge come into your possession?”

As much as Rey tries to keep her mouth shut, her lips are forced apart and the truth comes falling out involuntarily. “There’s something connecting us. It allows me to dream of his human life and see the memories you’ve ripped from him. I saw how he Bequeathed me, and I saw how you made him suffer.”

“He Bequeathed you?” Snoke’s head snaps to Kylo so quickly that Rey hears a crack. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?” 

Snoke finally releases her, but her relief is shortlived as he sntaches her hair and holds her high enough that her feet can’t touch the floor. She winces and cries out in pain when Snoke moves towards Kylo, dragging her behind him as he does so.

“Answer me!”

“I did not know, my lord. I never knew—”

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU.”

Not even Rey expected such anger from Snoke. From her awkward angle, Rey can barely see Kylo lift up his head before her hair falls over her face, obstructing her view. Her scalp already burns, but she knows if she tries to move then hair will surely rip from her head.

“It was on the night you took me for my first Cleaving. She was a child, I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know about Bequeathing yet, you weren’t there—”

“DO NOT BLAME _ME_ FOR _YOUR_ MISTAKES, KYLO REN.” Still bunching Rey’s hair with his fist, Snoke summons the cylinder from Kylo’s belt and flings it aside, far from his reach. “Can you even call yourself a Grim Reaper? I left you alone for five minutes and you could not manage one simple Cleaving? And this recent business with the assessment of the girl. It seems that I have misplaced my trust in you, Kylo Ren. Twenty years you have been my apprentice, and despite all I’ve done for you, you are a fool.”

When Snoke starts to laugh again, Rey can feel the invisible bindings begin to loosen. Ignoring the pain and summoning all the strength she has, she swings her fists at Snoke, bashing into him repeatedly. A wave of dizziness washes over her but she perseveres, repeatedly throwing punches, uncaring of where they land. Some of them don’t, and the sharp stinging in her skull intensifies from all the movement, but she doesn’t care. 

“Your father had the same dumb look on his face when you drove that knife through him. So trusting... but ultimately a fool,” Snoke sneers before releasing Rey and tossing her aside, she lands close to Kylo. “I want you to watch as I crush her soul. This girl you spent so long trying to manipulate and assess, watch as all your efforts come to nothing.” 

Rey, gasping for breath as blood rushes back to her head, tries to get away, shuffling on her back in an attempt to get closer to Kylo.

“You, Rey, a _nobody..._I reject,” Snoke declares, unclipping his own cylinder, brandishing the blade and lifting it high above his head. “Such a shame you had to go to waste.”

* * *

It pains Kylo to hear Rey struggling, but his shattered mind cannot comprehend what’s happening. He just stares at the ground before him, bits of unformed memories swirling around in his head just out of reach. Whenever he tries to grab them they slip away, endlessly taunting him with something he cannot grasp.

_“Leia_—_don’t_—_it’ll_—_bad_—_”_

_“But_—_wants_—_”_

He wishes the memories were physical objects that he could find and insert into his brain, relieving him from this torture. If only he could remember…

“Answer me!” 

“I did not know, my lord. I never knew—” Kylo stutters, thankful he caught the last of what they were talking about. 

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU.”

Kylo looks up immediately. It’s not something he wanted to do, but he has no choice but to obey the command. Something wet drips down his face. Tears? But why? 

“It was on the night you took me for my first Cleaving. She was a child, I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know about Bequeathing, you weren’t there—” He’s babbling and it only makes Elder Snoke angrier. He can see it, the way his Elder’s hair is becoming frazzled, the ends standing up from the electricity in the air. 

“DO NOT BLAME _ME_ FOR _YOUR_ MISTAKES, KYLO REN.” 

As Elder Snoke continues to rant, Kylo’s eyes drift to where Rey is. He hasn’t been keeping track of what’s been happening, the pure chaos in his mind preventing him from being fully aware, much less responsive. His chest blooms with pride when she fights against Snoke’s hold, her limbs flying everywhere like a feral child. 

“Your father had the same dumb look on his face when you drove that knife through him. So trusting... but ultimately a fool,” Snoke says before turning to Rey. 

Time slows down as Kylo mentally repeats his Elder’s words.

_“Your father had the same dumb look on his face when you drove that knife through him.”_

The formerly unattainable mist of memories suddenly becomes solid and true in his mind, and Kylo sees a greying man with tired face staring up at him, his eyes shining and wide. The man tries to breathe, but it comes out as a wince. Instead, he places a hand on Kylo’s cheek. Warmth spreads from where they’re connected through his entire body. 

Kylo is becoming aware of the heavy knife in his hand, and that he’s driven it so deep into the man that his fingers are coated with blood, but he doesn’t focus on that. Instead, he concentrates on what the man is saying. The man’s lips are barely moving, but he hears a voice in his head—familiar and loving.

Like a box unlocked with its lid slammed open, collections of memories come swarming to the forefront of his brain and he latches onto one.

_“Leia, don’t encourage him. It’ll end badly,”_ Han says, his hair pulled into two uneven pigtails that sit at the top of his head. His arms are crossed as he sits on the couch with his wife and child, pouting sulkily.

_“But he wants to learn,” Leia says lightly, tipping her head downwards so the boy can reach. _

_Behind her is Ben, at the tender age of five, fingers tangled through Leia’s hair in an attempt to recreate the fancy braid plaited in his shoulder length hair. _

_“You never taught _me_.”_

_“I didn’t realise it was a thing you wanted to know.” _

_“Mooooom, stop talking! How does it look?” Ben smiles at Leia with bright eyes._

_Leia gushes with over the top Mom energy. “Wow! Look, Han! Doesn’t it look marvelous?”_

_“Gee, kid, looks like you have favorites. How come mine didn’t turn out like that?”_

The scenery shifts and now they’re outside on their way somewhere. Ben’s holding onto Leia’s hand but bumps into something invisible. He falls to the ground and looks around, confused.

_“Can you hear me?” _says a voice Kylo now knows to be Snoke’s. The voice doesn’t sound sinister, but the weight of what’s happening to Ben in that moment seems to hit him hard. He does the only thing a child could do.

He covers his ears and cries and cries until he’s too weak to cry anymore.

More memories come rushing forward, but they’re a jumbled mess. Snippets from different points of his life, each one worse than the last as he grows older. The voices became louder, and paired with a teenage boy going through puberty, Ben was very prone to violent outbursts. He sees snippets of his parent’s marriage becoming more strained, neither of them knowing how to deal with Ben. More time passes by and he sees Ben—_himself_—sitting at the back of a church, head hung low in anguish. 

Kylo knows it’s close now, recognising Han’s clothes as he moves around the kitchen to make coffee and toast. He blinks and the familiar weight of their kitchen knife is in back in his hand, along with Han’s weathered but warm hand on his cheek.

“_I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’ll always love you, son_.”

“I want you to watch as I crush her soul. This girl you spent so long trying to manipulate and assess; watch as all your efforts come to nothing.” Snoke’s words are like whiplash to Kylo. Han’s last words, full of such love and sincerity, are starting to fade.

He can’t control his tears anymore, but at least now there’s meaning behind them. They’re _real_ and he’s shedding them for reasons he understands and knows, not because of an involuntary reaction.

“You, Rey, a nobody...I reject.” Snoke’s declaration is like a punch to the stomach, and the tears Kylo had shed from grief turn into those of anger and rage. His eyes narrow at his once Elder, hatred burning through his body and setting his nerves alight. He needs to make him pay for what he’s done, and for what he plans to do. 

There are no distractions, not even from Rey. He can’t see her face or her terror. His fingers tingle and he chases the feeling, pulling invisible strings with his fingertips until they become taut and then—

_WHOOSH_

The only evidence of what’s just occurred is in the form of a thick, red, angry slash through the air, as Kylo’s scythe flies towards Rey as Snoke looks between the two of them in shock. 

Two things happen. 

The first is that Snoke’s hair starts to wither away, leaving nothing but a dessicated skull with little resemblance to Elder Snoke. His face sinks, every inch of flesh melting away until he’s nothing but skin and bones. He opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, unable to comprehend his fate, the movement causing his severed body to fall over. 

The second thing that happens is that Kylo drops to his feet; too weak to stand. He flings his hand out, but the control he had just a moment ago is now gone, leaving him only able to watch as his scythe glides through the air towards Rey. Just as the blade is about to swing back and Cleave into her, she dodges the weapon and takes the long handle. She’s yanked backwards by the momentum and she spins a few times to slow down, but when she does, she stands up with shaky legs, holding his scythe with both of her hands.

Something primal stirs at the base of his stomach at the sight of her this way, and just as he’s about to chastise himself for thinking such thoughts at a time like this, a large, dark shadow floats up from Snoke’s severed body and charges for him. 

Kylo doesn’t know what Snoke is, but all he can feel from the dark entity rushing towards him is a demonic energy that freezes him in place. He can’t move, his position is fixed. There’s nothing he can do to stop it. This is it, one final attack to take him out. 

He’s accepted his fate when a flash of red light suddenly flares and a strong force pushes him out of the way, causing him to sail several meters across the room, right into Rey’s open arms. They collide with a grunt, but she catches him. 

“I’ve got you,” she whispers, dropping the now closed scythe and freeing her hands to pull a trembling Kylo into a tight hug. 

Kylo melts into her embrace, breathing deeply until he’s no longer shaking. He pulls back enough to look at Rey, who looks like she’s on the verge of having a breakdown. There’s pure panic and confusion on her face, her eyes darting past him to see if Snoke is gone. 

When Rey’s shoulders sag in relief, Kylo presses his forehead against hers, their noses touching as his eyes slip shut. He’s so exhausted that he could probably sleep for a million years, but for now, all he wants to do is savor this moment.

“Thank you,” he breathes. “For saving me.”

Rey makes a noise at the back of her throat. “Thank you for coming back for me…for loving me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in the Reaper Realm in the milky bathtub is heavily inspired by Battlestar Galactica's [Resurrection Tank](https://en.battlestarwikiclone.org/wiki/Resurrection_tank). 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly delayed but here's the last chapter! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

As much as he wants to pace while he waits for the verdict of the other Elders’ deliberations over recent events, Kylo forces himself to stay still. It doesn’t help that he’s been separated from Rey, who is currently ensconced in the room where she’d awakened. 

All the Elders from the other Orders were summoned the moment the dust had settled and Kylo was confident that Snoke was truly gone. He can imagine the uproar the rest of Snoke’s Order is experiencing right now; Kylo hadn’t even bothered contacting his Knights of Ren to fill them in before the Elders arrived. He’s confined to a chair that is far too small for his large body, waiting for someone to emerge from the large auditorium. He wants to jump out of his seat and bang on the door but the stern look shot his way by one of the Elders—from what Kylo could see from her hood-covered head, she had a humanoid face with thick blue and white appendages framing her tanned face—keeps him firmly in his seat. 

All Elders have a certain air about them, able to command authority with a single look. He had never seen so many of them in one place. Before today, Kylo didn’t know how many were even in existence, only knowing that Snoke’s Order was one of many across the universe. 

Whatever they eventually decide though, he only hopes they spare Rey. Kylo expects nothing of the sort for himself, knowing how many rules he had broken, albeit inadvertently. 

When the large double doors finally open, Kylo gets to his feet and bows in respect. The Elders do not spare him a second glance; Kylo guesses they’re eager to return to their Order. Only the Elder who had stuck out to him earlier remains, hanging back to give him the final verdict.

She tuts and shakes her head, letting out a weary sigh. “Quite a mess you’ve found yourself in, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo takes his chances and lifts his head. He towers over the Elder but knows she could take out her scythe and strike him down before he can react. “I apologise, Elder…?”

“Tano,” she finishes. “Elder Tano.”

“What is to be my punishment?”

Elder Tano studies him closely before asking, “Do you even know what you’ve stumbled upon? Do you completely understand what Snoke was?”

“Elder Snoke—”

“He was no Elder,” Elder Tano snaps, eyes narrowing in rage. “He stole the title. He never earned it, the weasel of a demon.”

“Demon?” 

Elder Tano’s eyes harden and her lips press in a firm line. “Yes,” she grits out. “None of the other Elders want to admit to such a breach of our system, but I’m not afraid of the truth. The first step is acknowledging that it happened before we can move on.”

“And what exactly happened, Elder?”

“We’ve sent a notice to your Order, notifying them of Snoke’s deception. He was never a Grim Reaper, but a soul demon. He somehow took a reaper’s soul and used their guise to deceive us. Since then, he’s been taking Cleaved souls for himself, using your Order as a meal delivery service in order to keep himself strong. But you may have noticed, and in fact I believe you are the _only_ one who has, if your access to the Records Room is anything to go by, that your sector had a spike in souls to collect over the past twenty years or so, yes?”

Kylo nodded. “I understand that no one can predict how quickly a population can grow, but the amount of tainted souls was suspicious.”

“As it should be. The more powerful Snoke grew, the more power he had over mortals. While we reapers are unable to have direct influence over humans, demons are free to do anything they please. It would be easy to do; mortals are defenceless to these kinds of attacks and most of the time they don’t know what even happened. The only problem was the mess he made after you had just been turned.” Elder Tano lays a hand on his shoulder, a gentle gesture that takes him by surprise. “Which brings me to the situation at hand.”

“Rey,” Kylo answered.

“Yes. This is why we do not allow reapers to assess individuals they have Bequeathed. It forms a bond that crosses time and space. No one really understands how it works, or why it happens, and while it is interesting to study, it is far too dangerous to allow.”

“So, now what?”

“Rey has two choices. The first is to stay here and train as a Grim Reaper, but under another Order. The second, we erase her memories of being a Bequeathed and put her soul back into her body. She will still be marked as a potential reaper, but when she does pass away and fall into an Order’s care, she won’t remember anything. She will be a Template and have no mortal memories, just like everyone else.”

“Have you told her?” Kylo doesn’t recognise his voice, his words come out weak and broken.

“Unfortunately, no. I trust we can leave it in your hands.”

It’s not something he wants to do. As they had been in the Mortal Realm, they’re on borrowed time and Kylo is loathe to waste it dithering about what Rey should do. “So, is that it? Is _this_ my punishment?”

It’s hard to shock an Elder so it comes as a surprise to both Elder Tano and Kylo when she looks at him with widened eyes and asks, sounding incredulous. “Why would we punish _you_?”

“Because I broke the rules. I assessed someone I had Bequeathed and I never documented that I Bequeathed Rey.”

“Both things that were beyond your control. You cannot possibly think we will punish you for what happened during Snoke’s reign.” Kylo doesn’t reply and keeps his face pointed away from Elder Tano in hopes that she won’t see how it affected him. “Oh, Kylo,” she says softly. “You’ve been through too much at that demon’s hand. I’m sorry for all that has happened.”

Kylo tracks her from the corner of his eye as she leaves him, walking towards the door where the rest of the Elders exited, but as she’s about to step through the threshold, she stops and whispers. 

“I’m sorry, Kylo. I’m sorry about your parents. And Rey’s. I am sorry for all of it. I’ll be back when a decision has been made.”

“What?” Even though Kylo snaps his head up immediately, Elder Tano is already gone. 

He mutters to himself as he makes his way through the grey paneled hallways to Rey’s room. A part of him has a sneaking suspicion about what else Elder Tano is sorry for, but he’s not sure if he can bring himself to address it.

“Rey,” Kylo says, gently knocking on the door before letting himself in. 

Rey is sitting on the floor when he enters. She is as far away as possible from the Template Tub in the middle of the room, and is looking anywhere but there. The tub still contains the milky liquid that swirls mysteriously with a life of its own.

“So, how did it go?” Rey asks, getting to her feet.

“It’s been sorted. I’m assuming another Elder will oversee my Order until a new Elder is permanently assigned.”

Rey fiddles with the thin sash that’s draped over her body. “And me?”

With Rey standing close and within his reach, he realises how easy it would be to just take her hand and run away. They would be constantly on the move, hiding between worlds, but at least they would be together. Then, he considers lying to her. How easy it would be to tell her that everything is fine, that she is to stay in the Reaper Realm for all eternity despite being assigned to another Order, but the moment the thought pops into his head, he discards it without a second thought. 

As painful as it will be, no matter what she chooses, he cannot lie to her again. Trapping and manipulating her like that would make him no better than Snoke. 

So with his heart full and his body hyper-aware of how close she is, Kylo takes a step back, then another and another, until he’s standing on the other side of the tub. “The Elders have two choices for you. You can keep your memories and become a Grim Reaper, but in a different Order. It’ll be hard and there’s a good chance you’ll be sent to the furthest Order from mine because they won’t want us to be together. Attachment is discouraged here and…well, we can try to make it work if that’s what you decide. One of us could try to transfer to another Order, after some years have passed.”

Rey crinkles her nose. “And my other option?”

“Return to the Mortal Realm with no memories of any of this ever happening. No Bequeathing, no timers, no nothing.”

_No me_ goes unsaid.

“Time doesn’t pass here the same way as it does on Earth,” he continues. “Even though you’ve been here for almost a day, you’d be back in your body only a second after you—” He can’t bring himself to say it. He doesn’t know how, but she’s only in the Reaper Realm because she died prematurely, most likely by her own hand. 

She puts him out of his misery. “I slit my throat. It was the quickest way I could think of at the time,” Rey tells him, only to have her face smothered by his tunic a moment later. 

* * *

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the sheer horror of what she had discovered at the time, but it never really sank in that she’d actually committed suicide. She doesn’t remember feeling anything, but her mind was a mess at the time, too busy going into overdrive about Kylo.

But now that things have calmed down and she’s allowed herself to properly breathe, it hits her like a train how fast and how willing she was to sacrifice herself to save Kylo.

There’s a familiar sting to her nose when Kylo hugs her tightly while rubbing comforting circles into her back. She clings to him as tears begin to fall from her eyes.

It made perfect sense to do what she had done. There was nothing holding her back from her decisions, nothing making her second guess that ending her life was the right thing to do, so why does she feel such regret knowing that she’s dead in the Mortal Realm? 

Except now she knows she can reverse it, take it back as if it never happened, but is it something she really wants to do? There’s nothing for her back at home. But if she stays here, she’d be trapped forever with no guarantee she would be able to see him again. 

“Those are my only two options?” she says faintly when Kylo pulls back.

“Yes.” Kylo looks absolutely distraught, though he’s obviously trying to hold himself together, and she understands. He’s going to be hurt regardless of which choice she makes. 

“Do you want me to stay?” she asks.

He frowns and moves to leave, looking completely overwhelmed by her question. He’s halfway out the door when he pauses and whispers something that she only just catches. 

“Stay, because you want to, not because I told you to.” 

She tells herself that she’ll think about it properly, weigh the pros and cons, but even before he leaves the room, Rey knows what her answer will be.

For his benefit, Rey leaves him alone for the rest of the day, figuring he needs some time to come to terms with whatever is going to happen. It’s not until much later that she finds Kylo in the throne room where Snoke once sat, standing before the large black throne with his back to her, deep in thought. 

He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t turn to face her. When Rey comes up from behind and snakes her arms around his midsection, his head drops and his shoulders slump.

“You know my decision, don’t you?” Rey’s voice is small against his back but loud at the same time. 

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

Rey fists the front of his tunic and buries her head into his back. “But—” She feels terrible. He’s been alone all his life and just when there’s a chance that won’t be the case anymore, she’s leaving.

But Kylo twists around and cups the back of her head, so it rests against his chest. “I understand. Your life was never yours. You deserve so much more than what you would get if you stayed here. You deserve to live your life without the burden of seeing the timers. There will be nothing to hold you back. You’ll be able to do what you’ve always wanted but never dared to try.”

Rey pushes herself away and keeps herself at arms length. “My boss made me an offer before she left. Actually, she’s been making it for years,” she admits shakily. It’s the first time she’s able to acknowledge that she wants to take Dr. Kalonia’s offer. It’s frightening; she’s not used to doing things for herself. 

“Then take it,” Kylo replies. “Live your life to the fullest.” He ruffles her hair, at first in jest but his eyes soon soften. “I’ll notify the Elders so they can return you home before more time is wasted.” He starts to pull away from her and she immediately feels cold from the loss of his warmth. 

She grabs his arm and stops him from leaving. “I want you to do it. I want _you_ to be the last thing I see before I go back.” She’s ashamed for asking this of him, but for once, she’s decided to be selfish and put her desires first. She needs this.

Kylo tenses. “I’ve never done it before.” Despite the fear that emanates from his body, he turns to her, readying himself to carry out the task. 

There is pain in his eyes but it has to be him. She won’t settle for anything less.

* * *

She’s determined, Kylo can see it written on her face, clear as day. 

“Now?” he asks weakly.

“If you can.”

Shakily, Kylo places his hand over her face like he had seen Snoke do to him, making sure not to grip too tightly as his palm covers her eyes. He takes deep breaths, and sees Elder Tano standing by the door. She’s quiet and gives him a nod, lifting her own hand to secretly do the deed. He’s relieved, at least this means that it’ll be done properly. Rey won’t be trapped somewhere in limbo because he didn’t know what he was doing, and her memories will be properly erased. No more blunders from him. 

“Are you ready?” 

Rey nods in response and Kylo lays his other hand on her chest, just over her heart. It’s beating fast, and Rey gasps and trembles at his touch. As confident as she looks, it’s just a cover. He doesn’t know if it’s for him or herself, but he wills himself to be strong for her. His eyes shine with unshed tears.

“I’ll never forget you, Rey,” Kylo says.

Rey lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “You probably won’t recognise me the next time we meet.”

She’s doing it again. “I really won’t,” he says seriously. 

She falters and the fake smile slips from her face. “Even though I won’t remember you, I’ll always carry you in my heart,” she says sincerely. 

His chest twists, as if a knife has plunged directly into his heart. His hand slips from her face and her eyes widen at the sight of him—his eyes are red and wet with tears and he knows he must look utterly devastated. He tries to pull her into a bone crushing hug, but the moment their bodies meet, she goes limp.

He lets out a choked sob, dropping to his knees as he cradles the faceless Template that every reaper is before their soul leaves the living realm and merges with their new form. He holds her close, even though her body has become a blank mannequin. There’s no hair on her head, but he strokes it just the same.

“Elder Tano,” he says quietly. “Is it normal for this to hurt so much?”

There’s the sound of Elder Tano moving to leave. “I wouldn’t know. Reapers aren’t meant to experience these feelings. We are, after all, dead. We’re here to help mortals move on, and nothing more.”

* * *

Rey wakes up on the floor of her apartment as the sun hits her eye. She gets up and groggily looks around. 

_Why am I out here_? she wonders, only to startle at the knife in her hand. She drops it in shock and frantically inspects her body for any wounds, finding none. Rey has the fleeting thought that she should probably be more alarmed than she is, but all she can focus on is the way she _feels_ right now.

Even though she slept on the kitchen floor, her body feels completely rejuvenated and energised. She doesn’t remember feeling this way in her life.

In the bathroom, she splashes water on her face and feels like an entirely new person. When she tries to remember what happened yesterday, nothing significant comes to mind. She remembers feeling heavy with an unknown burden, but the weight is gone. Now, she just feels happy. 

The energy coursing through her body makes her spring into action. She prepares herself some coffee and something simple for breakfast before heading to her favorite spot on the roof. 

The fresh air fills her lungs as she stretches her arms above her head, taking in the morning sunshine. After a few bites of toast, she’s wandering around the roof, her body feels desperate to release some excess energy. 

Spying a particularly sunny spot, an idea suddenly idea pops into her mind. 

“Tomatoes, or maybe potatoes,” she mutters. By the time it’s time to get ready for work, multiple tabs are open on her phone browser and she has a plan to visit the closest plant nursery after work. 

Rey has a bright smile on her face when she arrives at work a little while later. There’s still the odd case or two she has to complete but they’re done by the time lunch arrives. Standing in the empty room, she drums her fingers along the metal autopsy tables. There’s no question that her life has been far from fulfilling, what with no real mentor or parents to guide her in life, but after this morning, things feel different. It’s like a veil that’s been draped over her eyes for years has been lifted, she’s never looked at life so clearly. She knows what she wants to do.

She glances at the calendar. It’s Friday, which means it’s only a matter of days before she will see Dr. Kalonia again. 

Rey has never felt so excited to see her boss. She doesn’t fret or worry whether she’s made the right decision, and pulls out the anatomy books that Dr. Kalonia has on hand and eagerly digs in.

It’s time to take the next step in her life. 

She’s ready.

* * *

Kylo keeps tabs on Rey, but has to force himself to only look in on her every few months or so. 

The Elder temporarily assigned to his Order is aware of this and lets it slide; if it was any more frequent there would be a problem, but given the circumstances, Kylo is extremely grateful for the Elder’s leniency. Despite being cursed with such strong emotions, Kylo’s performance as a Grim Reaper remains stellar. There are even whispers that he will be anointed as an Elder in the future, in part due to his history. “It will give your Order a unique perspective on things,” Elder Tano tells him one day. 

If it distracts him from continuously yearning to watch Rey from beyond the realm, then he will gladly take it.

But he’s happy for her, he really is.

He watches as she gets stressed about exams and practicals but he doesn’t doubt her for a second. Her smile when she graduates at the top of her class helps Kylo get through weeks of Cleaving duties before he can see her again.

The jealousy he feels over the friends she makes when she starts her residency on the paediatric wards initially makes Kylo clench his fists and narrow his eyes, but after a few moments of deep breathing, he accepts that it’s inevitable and tries his best to be grateful that she has these people in her life—even if he thinks Finn and Poe are morons. Rose is all right, though. 

It’s also inevitable that Rey eventually tries her hand at dating. Kylo’s top lip curls and his stomach sinks whenever he sees her with an unknown male, or female, clearly out on a date.

But her own relationships never last long—she’s far too busy at the hospital, clocking in the most hours on her team. Kylo can tell it’s because of her ward. The ability to make children smile and be with them when they need her the most offers the fulfilment she’s always wanted.

It warms his heart when Rey stops eating frozen meals. It had started with soups. She had seen the stock cubes he had made for her long ago and rolled with it, looking up recipes in which to use the flavor bombs. When they ran out, she researched recipes and tried her hand at making them herself. Cooking ended up becoming one of her greatest passions in life, and Kylo always enjoys watching her do it.

She also got rid of her long hair, cropping it short the weekend before Dr. Kalonia had returned from leave. No longer did it go beyond her shoulders, but ended a few inches above her chin, naturally curling at the ends. She’s cute, really cute, and it took all of Kylo’s willpower to pull himself away from watching her through the mirror that connected the realms. 

* * *

Many years pass, and by the time Rey’s life timer dwindles to its end, many things have changed, but Kylo still feels like it was just yesterday that he’d leaned against the doorway of her laundry late at night, watching as she folded her clothes without any spark in her life. 

They’ve both changed so much since then. 

He wonders, when the time comes, if she will accept the offer to become a Grim Reaper.

* * *

She does.

* * *

Rey feels numb when she first wakes, but strangely calm. She opens her eyes and slowly sits up in the tub where she is submerged in a thick, milky substance. She raises a hand and inspects it, turning it over and gently wiggles her fingers. 

The room she’s in is strange, but it feels oddly familiar and comforting. Rey feels no fear as she hoists herself up, waiting for the viscous substance to drip from her naked body before stepping over the edge of the tub. 

She immediately slips and starts to fall backwards, but someone catches her before she lands on the floor.

They’re wearing heavy black robes and holding her close as if she could break at any moment. Rey blinks, then blinks again, not sure who he is...or who she is?

“Where am I?” she asks weakly, unable to recognise her own voice. 

“The Reaper Realm. Your name is Rey. Do you understand why you are here?” a deep voice asks her. A man, then.

All Rey can see is his hair and ears that peek out from underneath the hood he wears as he cradles her head in his large hands. She doesn’t know who he is, but she feels safe. Protected, even. 

Rey sighs into him. “I do now,” she replies. She doesn’t understand _why_ she suddenly knows, but she does. She’s here to collect souls. Everything will become clearer after she does so.

The man nods and pulls back his hood. 

The first thing Rey notices is the black crown that sits atop his head; he has dark, wavy hair that she has to restrain herself from running her fingers through. She takes in his expressive eyes next; they’re a beautiful honey brown and full of an emotion that she can’t decipher. Her gaze travels all over his face, peppered with freckles. He has a large nose and full lips that hint at a smile. A long, thin scar runs down one side of his face—it starts at his brow and goes all the way down to his neck where it disappears beneath his clothing; she wonders how he came to have it. She becomes fully aware of how very large and tall he is when he gently lowers her to her feet. 

“I am Elder Kylo Ren. You have been assigned to my Order. It’ll take a few moments until you’re fully reacquainted with your limbs, but when you are ready, please let me know.” Elder Kylo looks stern but his voice makes her feel like a warm, heavy blanket has been draped over her whole being. It feels wonderful, and she deflates a bit when he leaves her alone to get dressed in the robes she’s been provided with, which she manages to do without tripping over herself. 

Elder Kylo returns after she’s finished dressing and leads her to a room where other new reapers are already seated, waiting for their induction to start. He introduces everyone to their new lives, and assigns everyone a mentor to oversee their first Cleaving. 

Rey isn’t sure why she feels sad when she’s assigned to someone else, rather than him. From what she understands, Elders are busy managing their Orders. It’s silly to think that he would have the time to personally show her around, though she is almost ridiculously pleased when she learns that she is the only reaper Elder Kylo ever personally welcomed into the Reaper Realm. 

She doesn’t see Elder Kylo very often after that first day, only in passing; but in those small moments, sometimes she catches him smiling at her. She never sees him smile at anyone else. If anything, he’s constantly scowling, especially when he finishes meeting with the orange-haired reaper—Reaper Hux, if she remembers correctly.

Rey isn’t sure why she seems so hyper-aware of her Elder, but tries to brush it aside and not become distracted. There are so many things to learn here, and so much work to do; she can’t afford to waste time dwelling on questions that probably don’t have answers. 

But soon something happens that is impossible not to dwell upon. Rey starts hearing snippets of conversations in her head that can’t possibly be real. She can’t understand what is being said, but the voices are familiar; one of them is her own, and the other belongs to Elder Kylo—she would know his voice anywhere. Rey tries to work up the nerve to tell her mentor about the voices but can’t bring herself to do it, even though she probably should. She fears their loss more than their presence. 

* * *

Not long after she began hearing the voices, Rey finds herself in a room full of data pads one day. They call it the Records Room and she’s been sent there to learn about its organization. She’s noticed that Elder Kylo seems to spend a lot of time there and isn’t terribly surprised to see him entering the room when she briefly looks up from her datapad. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t happy to see him.

The moment he sees her, however, he tenses and moves to leave. Rey stops him. 

“Please don’t leave on my account.” He looks unsure and doesn’t make any further move to leave, but he still looks uncomfortable. 

She should ask if she should leave, but something deep inside her compels her to ask instead, “Do you want me to stay?”

There’s a sharp intake of air followed by a shaky response. ”Stay, because you want to, not because I told you to.” 

Elder Kylo refuses to look at her now, nervously keeping his eyes directed to the ground. 

Suddenly, the Grim Reaper before her isn’t the Elder Rey has come to know; he’s becoming someone different. Something stirs within her that makes it even clearer with each passing second.

“Excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.” He tries slipping past her, which is impossible considering his size, and she grabs onto his sleeve.

They don’t move. Rey’s head is swirling with a recognition that she can’t quite grasp and she is overwhelmed with longing. 

“See you around, Mr. Assassin.” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, but it feels right. This feels _right_. 

She can see panic flit across his eyes, his brain firing in double time, trying to figure out what to say, what to do.

He reaches out, takes a lock of her short hair, and rubs it between his fingers. “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah,” she replies softly. “Felt right. I needed the change.”

He takes a shaky breath and doesn’t remove his hand, twisting the hair around his finger. “Do you remember?” There’s hope in his voice, but also fear.

“No, not exactly. But there’s something between us, I can feel it...and I want it. I remember bits and pieces. Conversations and...sensations.” She’s overwhelmed by a rush of scattered memories as the words leave her mouth. They’re just glimpses, but she knows they’re real. 

He inhales sharply. “You shouldn’t remember anything.”

“I suppose our bond is harder to break than anyone thought.” Rey takes his fingers from her hair and presses them against her lips. “I’m back, Kylo,” she whispers. “And I’m never leaving again.”

From beneath her lashes, she watches as relief floods Kylo’s face. He pulls her to him and hugs her tightly, cradling her head as it fits perfectly into the crook of his neck. 

“Welcome home, Rey.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Thank you so much for reading and I hope it's a satisfying ending! In a perfect world, I would've written small snippets/outtakes for this AU but alas, I haven't had the time to do so yet u_u Maybe I'll find the time and energy, maybe I wont. In previous RFFA years, I would make a series for when I'd add stuff to my AUs but this time, I don't want to make a series when nothing will be added for a long ass time (if ever rip) >.<
> 
> Thank you so much to [@curiousniffin](https://twitter.com/curiousniffin) for these gorgeous moodboards ([x](https://twitter.com/curiousniffin/status/1183179046118711296?s=20)) ([x](https://twitter.com/curiousniffin/status/1182978215956140032?s=20)) and to [@crossingwinter](https://twitter.com/crossing_winter) for my [rffa moodboard](https://twitter.com/reyloffanth/status/1182869544240590850) ♥
> 
> Please be sure to check out the rest of the fics in the collection! [Reylo Fanfiction Anthology 2019: Admid Secrets and Monsters](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Amid_Secrets_and_Monsters)


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